


Looking Through the Mist (Rewrite)

by Endlessnotebooks



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: AU, Gen, Kirigakure Worldbuilding, Massive AU, Rewrite, Some characters omitted to avoid spoilers - Freeform, Spinoff, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-02-10 08:10:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 24,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18656443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Endlessnotebooks/pseuds/Endlessnotebooks
Summary: Blame it on administrative error, but Akagi Ren would not be going home. But just because there aren't any jinchuuriki in Kirigakure anymore doesn't mean there is no risk for the village or for the people that fight for it. Then again, that's just part of the job.(Rewrite/Massive Overhaul of Looking Through the Mist)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Growing Strong (BEING REWRITTEN)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275080) by [silenceia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenceia/pseuds/silenceia). 



There wasn’t really a point to checking the calendar again. Mei had marked this date in her mind years ago, when the girl had first joined her war.  The contracts that had been signed, as was typical with this situation, marked the third year since her arrival as the day her allegiance was legally transferred to Kirigakure.

She had sent the appropriate warning but hadn’t heard back from Tsunade. It was more a formality at this point – no hidden village worth their salt would take back a soldier that had been serving elsewhere for more than two years. To do so made you look desperate or incompetent at best, both at worst. At three years, loyalties would be called into question by virtue of time alone. That wasn’t even considering that Ren had fought and bled for this country.

So, instead, Mei had to find a way to tie her down more effectively. The most dangerous part of these transitions was right after a shinobi found out. They weren’t warned, only sent back if necessary. The cutting of ties from a village they had invariably grown up in could lead them to leave their new village and become a missing nin – a shinobi with no village instead of a shinobi betrayed.

“So why did you call me here? Why not Haku, or better yet, Zabuza? He trained her, right?”

“Because Haku will give me the humane path and Zabuza will give me the military path. You’ve worked with her – you know what balance of both will work best.”

Suigetsu slouched in the chair he had taken in front of her desk. “Look, lady –“

“I’m still the Mizukage, Suigetsu. This is official business. Cheek will get you put on D-Ranks for the rest of the year.”

Suigetsu groaned. He had respect for her, and they both knew it. No one in Kiri really knew how to be formal anymore. Like any skill, the lack of practice had made them rusty. For diplomacy’s sake, though, she would have to encourage it within the shinobi ranks from now on. “ _Mizukage_ - _sama_.

“You have to tie her here. Both militarily, and with people. You’ve got a good start – I’m pretty sure our whole team would kill and maim for each other, almost no questions asked – but that’s now. If she’s going to be here longer, she has to be in a longer-term type of commitment.”

“Are you talking about arranging a marriage or are you talking about a genin team?”

Suigetsu laughed. “That first option would be hilarious, and I pity whoever marries her, but no. I’m talking about genin. At least that way we probably get some powerhouses out of the deal.”

“You say that like if she married someone they _wouldn’t_ drive each other mad in rivalry and become powerhouses in their own right.”

Suigetsu barked another laugh. He and Mei might not be outwardly demonstrative, but there was a definite affection there. Most of the higher-up shinobi in the newly reformed Kiri ranks had some kind of affectionate or friendly banter with their Kage – she had fought right there with them on the battlefield and she had led the rebellion with little to no hope it could actually work. It was admirable for the younger shinobi and it was enough to garner intense loyalty from the more weathered soldiers.

“Here are some genins’ files.” Mei gave him a dark smile, and it occurred to him she had probably had the same plan and was just seeing how he would handle the question. “Pick four and then report back to me.”

Suigetsu groaned as he left her office, well aware he had walked right into that one. He paused. “Wait, we didn’t talk about tying her to the military here. Your note said you wanted to tie her to the people, and to the military. Setting her up with genin – that’s just people.”

Mei smiled, something almost taunting. “I’ve already got some plans for the military part.”

That night, he received another short note. _Thank you for returning them._

*

Suzume and Kimiko had worked together. Occasionally. Why they chose to live together in one of the genin dorms they hadn’t really figured out, but it was definitely nice, especially since Kimiko made sure Suzume got at least as far as the small lounge that the landlord had put in so young shinobi weren’t always holing up in their rooms.

It went largely unused and collected a lot of dust, but the thought was nice. It was small, with a couch and a small table for card games and small communal meals.

“You’re pacing again.”

Kimiko was laying on the couch with her feet propped on the wall and her head hanging off the end. In a word, she was upside down and reversed from how she _should_ have been _sitting_ on it.

“You’re not seriously…”

“Hush up. It feels good.”

“That ‘good’ feeling, that spinny-feeling? That’s blood. Rushing to your head.” Suzume sat in front of Kimiko’s face, leaning back on her hands and staring down Kimiko. “And that’s not healthy. At all. I think.”

Kimiko rolled her eyes, adjusting so she was sitting on it right.

“Do you think the dorm-supervisor would be upset if we sold this and got a kotatsu?”

“Yeah, since it’s not ours. Where did this idea come from?” Suzume watched as Kimiko, ever focused on being either as small as possible or as spread-out as possible, curled into the corner of the couch.

“Warmth.”

“I swear you’re like one of those stray cats outside.” Suzume stood up before falling right next to Kimiko, the two of them laughing.

“You’re happier since the war ended.”

“Happier is a stretch.” Suzume stretched before pushing the side of her foot against Kimiko’s. “It’s nice not to be almost dying every five minutes.”

“Every five minutes was a stretch. Just every day.”

Suzume huffed a laugh. “You’re way too nonchalant about the shit that happened during the war.”

“I can let it bother me or I can ignore it. If I ignore it I don’t have to deal with it until later.”

That was too accurate. Suzume got up to find some cards. “Well if we’re ignoring our problems, we might as well enjoy ourselves.”  

*

Ren scowled at the book in her lap. She was trying to get better at sealing, now that there was even the slightest bit of time to rest between missions. Given the noise that came from having four people in a small dorm room, she had found herself ensconcing herself in the library every free moment for the quiet anyway – might as well get some skills out of it.

“What’re you reading?”

She had run into this boy several times. He couldn’t be much older than she was, if he was older than her at all, and he wore a forehead protector, but he was a massive klutz half the time, and the other half didn’t seem to have volume control. The running commentary was that it was a good thing he was kept largely in-village as the head of Research and Development.

Even if she hadn’t liked him, she would have at least admitted he reminded her of Naruto. It just so happened he quickly befriended her – much like the knuckle-headed blonde she left back in Konoha.

“Sealing book. There isn’t much here, though, and this is focused on storage seals. I’d like to think I’ve gotten decent at those.”

The man flicked a red braid of hair over his shoulder, pulling the book closer to take a look. “That’s ‘cause this is for, like, everyday people. Even the shinobi section here has a lot of weaker stuff. Swing by R and D with me, I can show you some stuff we’ve pulled together!”

Ren smirked. “Maybe when I’m not busy.”

“You wound me, Akagi-san.”

Ren rolled her eyes, standing to put the book back. She wasn’t going to get much from this, so she might as well direct her attentions elsewhere. “Merely a secondary benefit, Hiroshi-san.”

Hiroshi smirked.  “Well, if you won’t be able to visit R and D soon, maybe we can spar?”

That was something that Ren could absolutely agree to.

*

Takeshi had met Masuyo on the battlefield, shared some tea with her, and then never saw her again.

So running into her while she was watching Akagi Ren and the Hiroshi that never gave out his last name (there was a chunin named Shinzo Hiroshi that Takeshi had also met during the war, but he hadn’t been quite as interesting) was surprising.

“What are you doing?”

“She did some incredible stuff in the war.”

Takeshi sat next to her between the thin, scraggly trees and brush so common to Kirigakure to watch. “She did some _terrifying_ stuff during the war.”

“Do you think we’d have to do that?”

“If the war kept up, yeah.” Takeshi shrugged. “But that’s what shinobi do.”

Masuyo sighed. “But do they have to? Do we have to start people so little? I was ten when I had my first kill – I got out of the Slums three weeks before that.”

“And you’re?”

“Twelve now.”

Takeshi nodded. “I was eleven. I was supposed to be trained on medic work because of my chakra control, but no one had the time so I was just doing stitches and stuff. When the med tent got infiltrated by some enemies pretending to be injured allies, I had to use some of the surgical equipment to kill them. The medics had already nearly passed out from chakra exhaustion, and no one in there was ready or able to fight.

“I was taken out of medicine and put in the field. Quick-thinking, and all that.”


	2. Chapter 2

Mei didn’t necessarily have to talk to Tsunade anymore about Riko. She had sent the necessary notifications, and was technically off the hook.

But there was something about it bothering her. Based on her correspondences from before, as much as Riko had annoyed Tsunade, the Hokage had still been fond of her. It didn’t make sense that Tsunade would be entirely uninterested in the military ownership of one of her own being transferred to another village. This was compounded by the fact that, even if she was adopted, she was a child of the Nara clan which meant she was losing potential political clout. That didn’t even consider the risks of alienating a Konoha clan by sending one of their children off permanently.

The rational solution had been to organize a meeting, face to face, in Konoha. If there was something wrong, she was there in a diplomatic capacity and it was Tsunade’s home turf, putting Konoha at ease. She already had what she wanted – Nara Riko in her shinobi forces permanently and through nearly irreversible, legal means. She didn’t need the upper hand in the meeting.

She also felt she needed to look out for Tsunade, if only because they needed to stick together as the only female Kage in the game. They couldn’t look weak in front of each other or their villages, but they also had to look doubly strong in front of any other villages.

Not every country or village wanted to admit that kunoichi were vital. Kirigakure’s honoring of the women that started their village’s shinobi tradition was an exception rather than the rule, and even their history of female involvement in the shinobi ranks was relatively strange to the other Hidden Villages. If the bits and pieces that had come out of Ren over the years about the kunoichi classes from Konoha were any indication, any weakness could put Tsunade in a bad place with her councils.  

She had two weeks to cement Ren’s loyalty, and then she would be leaving for Konoha. Bracing herself, she looked at the files brought to her by Suigetsu.

This could go very well or very horribly.

*

There was nothing stopping Hiroshi from going on missions – it would be easy to start, actually – but he had found a home and career here. Never mind the sins of the past, the new Mizukage was making strides toward the future.

His mother and father would have cursed his name for his job choice, but there would never have been heat in it. They had loved Mei – they had grown up right there with her under the Sandaime and Yagura, they had been first people she told when she had finished planning and was ready to execute her coup d’état. His maternal grandmother had been the first one to marry into the Terumi clan. Even if it was for her own safety and that of her immediate relatives, the Terumi’s had welcomed her and her extended family and encouraged them into whatever professions and supportive roles they wanted to take.  His mother had always said they were too kind to be shinobi but too harsh to be anything else.

None of his grandmother’s family became shinobi. They operated on the assumption that survival would mean not standing out, not calling attention to themselves. They acted as internal support for the Terumi clan, but they didn’t put themselves into the village’s sights. Not under Yagura, and certainly not under the Sandaime Mizukage before him.

He liked to think he was an optimist, though, even if it could get him killed in battle. Life was better when he went out of his way to see the good in people. That optimism is what led him here – living out the dream of entering the profession of his ancestors, even if it was by proxy.

The research and development branch of the Intelligence Sector in Kirigakure was well managed. Even if he was generally a mess, his assistant had helped him set up a delegation system and break up the research into focused teams. Where he could get people inspired and encouraged to come into work the next day and the day after that, Haruka was the better of the two of them at actually managing the people in it.

“You have your own job here, don’t you?” Haruka was looking at him, wary about his spaced out staring. “You’re not just supposed to sit here and dream up dangerous shit for Mei-sama?”

He hadn’t been thinking about anything of the sort, but he certainly had something that was enough of a potential disaster that Haruka wouldn’t ask any more questions.

Hiroshi forced a convincing laugh as he pulled out some notes from a few days before. “I think Akagi-san has a bloodline she isn’t letting on about.” He liked the other redhead, but he still kept his eyes out for anything that might be pertinent to their department. Previously undisclosed, potentially undiscovered bloodlines tended to fall into that description. “She seems to use it in moments of high tension, likely without realizing it.”

Haruka skimmed the paper. His eyebrow quirked up. “You sure you shouldn’t be in the Covert Ops unit?”

“Nah, I couldn’t do with all the subterfuge. I’m happy here.”

“You’re a terrible shinobi. Subterfuge is our entire profession.”

Hiroshi just laughed as he placed the paper back in her file. “Sure, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

*

Ren rolled her eyes as she threw a sock at Suigetsu. “Either do your fucking laundry or get strung up naked, with ninja wire, by your ankles to the Mizukage’s office window. I don’t care which, just know option two is going to be _painful_.”

Suigetsu batted the sock away, causing a chain of nigh on tennis between the two of them. She may have enjoyed the company of her team, but living together had been an interesting exercise in preventing murder between the four of them. Or, her and Suigetsu rather. Haku and Chojuro generally tried to avoid the conflicts they spurred.

“I don’t know. That soap stuff is _dangerous_.”

“Only when laced with any number of poisons. Which is Option Three, but instead of your laundry soap it will be your shower soap.”

Suigetsu rolled his eyes, but he got around to picking his laundry up and at least putting it in a bag to carry down with him.

“Okay, _Mom_.”

“You wish your mom was as cool as me.”

Suigetsu scoffed, leaving the room. Chojuro, who had been quiet to that point, leaned over his bunk. “That was the weirdest thing I think I’ve witnessed since we all moved in together.”

“What did you expect?”

He laughed. “True. I heard a rumor you and Hiroshi were sparring.”

“Does he know everyone?”

Chojuro huffed a small laugh. “I haven’t met him personally, but no one told me his surname.”

“He introduced himself to me as just ‘Hiroshi’ – maybe he doesn’t particularly care for it.”

“You’re deflecting.”

Ren rolled her eyes. “ _Yes._ I sparred with the R and D weirdo we are all secretly scared of.”

“No one is _secretly_ scared of Hiroshi, to be fair. He gets really into that R and D stuff.” Chojuro shrugged, and they both pretended the Research and Development department wasn’t one that terrified a significant number of Kiri shinobi. “I hear he made a seal for T and I that makes even natural chakra movement painful.”

Ren winced. Any shinobi other than Gai or Lee wouldn’t handle that very gracefully. She couldn’t imagine it, but she could see it being reason enough to sell out and give up secrets if you had them. She wouldn’t even blame anyone who did.

“Yeah?”

“Man, R and D is filled with nutcases.” Suigetsu bit out a hiss as he closed the door. “I met one guy there that says he researches only how chakra injection can be used in battle.”

“Isn’t it medical, though?” Ren knew there was something about injecting chakra into someone when healing them and using yours and theirs to heal wounds, but it had been so long since she had learned the theory that whatever she did, it was by rote memorization and the hours of sleep-deprived, chakra-exhausted practice she got in the war, rather than by a delicate comprehension of theory.

Suigetsu threw himself into the lower bunk – across from where Ren had sat to talk to Chojuro. “I mean, yeah, but if you can use it to heal you can use it to hurt. That’s their logic anyway.”

Ren shook her head. “That’s a special kind of crazy, I’ll give you that.”

Suigetsu glared at the clock. “I’ve got thirty minutes. Let’s go train or something.”

Ren grabbed her sword and strapped her kunai pouch on as they left. The Jonin training ground wasn’t far from the dorm, and it would let them blow off steam – Mei had kept the four of them largely in village as things had settled, opting to get all the shinobi registered and accounted for while setting up an infrastructure to take in missions and divvying up forces across the islands that made up the Land of Water.

It was driving her whole team insane.

*

Half an hour had long passed, but Ren couldn’t bring herself to care, because she was looking down at a likely victory. She had already incapacitated Chojuro in their little mock fight, and all she had left was Suigetsu, who was starting to wear out.

To be fair, so was she. She had managed to find a spot to camp out in for a moment to catch her breath, though, letting Suigetsu deal with some convenient traps.

“I know you’re here somewhere you red-headed rat!”

Ren dropped behind him, charging and driving her sword towards him, putting a little spin into her last launch.

“Holy shit!”

Suigetsu managed to block her, but it was by a hair’s breadth, and he was cursing her name from the second he saw her through each time he tried to strike her with the Shibuki. “You little bitch!”

“Takes one to know one, Suigetsu!”

Maybe it was being overly showy, but she had taken to trying to add some spin to her strikes, or to drive them in spiraling. “Adds torque” had been her go to excuse, but Ao (among others) had seen right through her. It felt cooler to put spin into the blade where she could.

She put her sword back as she ducked one more cutting blow from Shibuki. Instead, she launched herself up, headbutting Suigetsu the half second it took her to shunshin behind him, grabbing his hair as he came back from it and putting a kunai to his throat. “I win.”

He turned to water and suddenly she was moments from having her head taken off, but still taking the brunt of force from an explosive jutsu from Shibuki.

“Fuck!”

“Don’t get cocky, midget!”

They were about to go at it again when Chojuro stumbled into the field. “Guys, Suigetsu’s laundry’s gotta be done by now.”

Even if it was Ren’s fault he had started it at all, she joined him in groaning. Things had just started getting good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we don't see the four from last chapter in _this chapter_ , but they are coming back next chapter. I had a different aim for this chapter though, besides some pre-emptive comedic relief before things start really coming together in the next few chapters.


	3. Chapter 3

Tsunade should have been more careful. Should have paid more attention. Maybe then she wouldn’t have let a major date pass without so much as occasion. But Orochimaru planned his capture of Konoha shinobi just perfectly to conflict with her diplomatic schedule.

Three years and she lost who had been one of her most promising recruits from that year-group to Kirigakure. She was grateful for the budding alliance between the two villages, but she could have done without losing a _clan child_ to a fledgling regime and no guarantee the alliance would even stick. Even though Riko was adopted, there was still the fact she had been a Nara – there would be backlash.

She would just have to hope, and to discuss it with Mei it would seem. The most innocuous piece of paper on her desk was the one with the most weight.

_How had she missed this?_

*

Ren took the files from the Mizukage. “You all are going to meet in three hours. I suggest you get reading.”

Ren nodded. She didn’t get up right away. “You’re giving me genin. I take it I’m not going back.”

Mei sighed. “No. The contract between myself and Tsunade expired two months ago. I notified the Hokage one month beforehand, but it looks like you’re going to be here longer than you were originally hoping.”

It stung, but that was life. There had been an agreement – she wasn’t about to risk triggering a war by running back to Konoha and damning the consequences. She had precious people here and she wouldn’t risk putting Mei’s regime on a potential chopping block. It was too new to risk.

“Thank you for the trust, Mizukage-sama.” She gestured with the files. “I’ll do my best with them.”

“I know you will.”

Ren had never given anything less. She had taken her training and given it and Kirigakure her all. She would do the same with these genin.

“And, Ren? I want you to stop using the seal. Gradually reduce the chakra to it, so that within the end of two weeks or so you’re no longer disguised.” Mei was looking at Zabuza, and Ren caught him nodding in her peripheral vision. “We’re going to put a quiet announcement out after I leave for the negotiations. Chuunin and above will be made aware of the situation to the extent the treaty allows, and you will be allowed to choose which name you go by within Kirigakure bounds.”

“Mizukage-sama?”

“It’s better we announce it than you get forcibly revealed by a stray shot in a mission. It’s a miracle the seal’s lasted this long.”

Ren nodded. “Then I’d rather my name on official records remain Akagi Ren. If I switch back, there will be questions of loyalty. Working with other jounin will be a lot easier if they’re assured of my loyalties.”

Mei nodded. “You have until I come back to change your mind, Akagi-san.”

They both knew she would be a fool to do it. The option of changing back to Nara Riko was a formality anyway, and taking it would have been a surefire way to signal that she was still loyal to Konoha. Even if she was, even if deep in her heart she knew she would never be able to truly go all-out on a Konoha shinobi, she wasn’t about to admit it in such a public manner. In a country that valued individual loyalty over loyalty to abstract ideas, that would have painted a target on her back that would never be done with, no matter what she did to prove herself beyond that. 

*

Suzume scowled, glaring a hole into the tree nearby. There was no reason to give them a jonin supervisor. They had proven themselves thrice over during the last few months of the war – Suzume had even been up for a promotion. That didn’t mean anything when the Mizukage managed to come into power and settle the last of the major disputes, though, so she was stuck at genin.

“You could, ya know, chill.”

Suzume rolled her eyes. At least Takeshi was keeping his mouth shut. She had worked with him before, and the two of them bickered more than they helped one another. “Hush up, Kimiko. It’s not like you or Masuyo were up for promotion at the end of the war anyway.”

Takeshi had been closer than even she was, but she wasn’t about to admit it out loud.

Masuyo kicked a stone towards Suzume. “Who knows. Maybe we at least get a cool sensei.”

“How does that make up for being screwed out of a promotion?”

Masuyo sighed. “Or you can keep moping about your ‘promotion’. Not like that ever gets old.”

It was completely childish, but if she was going to be stuck a genin it was worth it to indulge herself by sticking her tongue out at Masuyo. They had been close-ish during the war, but afterward the two of them hadn’t spoken.  

“Glad to know you four are all so capable.”

The woman standing in front of her was, honestly, not who she expected out of a jonin sensei. One of the lower profile ones? Sure. Akagi Ren?

That certainly made things interesting.

“You four were in the war. You should be fairly capable to begin with, meaning this is somewhat refresher, somewhat formality. Of course, you can get mad if you want to, but that wastes everyone’s time.” Akagi walked to the center of the training ground. There were four senbon with ribbon tied in such a way to loop them together, and she attached them to one of the loops on her pants. “You have three hours to pull these off me. If you fail today, we will run the same exercise tomorrow. We will _keep_ running the exercise until you figure out how to get them from me, and we won’t be taking missions until that point.”

Suzume groaned. This couldn’t get any worse.

*

They failed the test, but Ren couldn’t say she was surprised. She had used thirty minutes to surveil them while she carried on mild conversation with Hiroshi. While Masuyo and Kimiko were fairly calm, they clashed when it mattered (as evidenced by the scuffles throughout their mission record). Suzume was another beast entirely. She barely scraped up to Chunin, and while she _was_ up for a wartime promotion when the war ended it was definitely wise of Mei to put her on the genin roster. There was a lot she had to learn, least of which was how to work with people. Takeshi seemed to be barely holding in the desire to snark every time Suzume opened her mouth, which wouldn’t lead to much in the way of teamwork until they learned to channel that banter into a more productive type of sparring. With luck, she could get them to egg each other into becoming better.

“You owe me 20 ryo, Hiroshi.”

“Ah, I guess I do. I was hoping they would catch on quicker.”

“Want to set bets for how long it takes them?”

Hiroshi considered it. “No. I don’t want to bet on them being stuck genin longer than necessary.

“It’s an interesting tactic, though, that you’ve chosen. You make them work together, but so long as they work solo you instruct them as they fight you. Ingenious.”

“I ripped it off my sensei and then adapted it. We aren’t failing genin that fought the war – only the ones that come out of the academy next year. And besides, it might help them long run if they know what mistakes they’re making now.”

Hiroshi nodded. “I was considering teaching part time at the academy – what do you think?”

Ren quirked a brow as they walked toward a small fish stall. “Sounds like something you have to figure out. Would you be a good teacher?”

“Depends what I taught. I don’t know that I could teach history or the like, but maybe chakra theory or mathematics?”

Ren nodded. “Sounds like a solid choice. Bet the extra pay would be nice, too.”

Hiroshi beamed. “I hadn’t even thought of that! Maybe I could finally move out of the dorms!”

Ren laughed. “I can’t believe that was the temporary solution. It’s not like most of us are going to pass up free housing – and even if we would, we can barely afford rent right now. What made anyone think we would ever move out?”

“I hear some teams are moving into apartments together to cover the rent issue – too many shinobi in a small space almost leading to some homicides and all.”

Ren shrugged. “We talked about it, but for right now it’s kinda nice having each other at our backs when we’re asleep. We know we’ve got someone looking out for us, and we all sleep better, ya know?”

Hiroshi nodded. “Makes sense.”

Ren took her order and scarfed it down. “Ugh, I don’t want to be stuck here longer, but those genin are going to take forever to train up. I’m going crazy in-village as is.”

“Did the Mizukage say you have to stay in village with them full term? Maybe you’ll still be able to take some missions and pad your income until they’re ready for the D-ranks. And hey, most genin teams are being assigned to satellites and rebuild missions. Jounin are talking about taking their own missions while the genin handle the rebuilding.”

Ren nodded. That was something she could live with. She got a stipend for teaching, but it would barely cover her quarter of bills. Two or three missions a month would go a long way to making up the difference.

Supervision of genin – the system more often used in Kirigakure – meant she could substitute out which Jonin was actually training her genin or watching out for them if the mission would take longer than a few hours or a couple days. Then again, if she was merely a supervisor and they would be in the satellites for missions she could pick up her own work then, while they were on their off-hours. 

“I’ll talk to Mei about the specifics.”

*

Zabuza looked at the notice. “Who’s on your security detail?”

Mei sighed. “I want to take Ren, because she has insider knowledge of the village. But that puts her in a bad place at minimum, and in a far too convenient place to defect at worst.”

Zabuza scoffed. “If I know that brat, then I can tell you one thing – she isn’t defecting. No way in hell.”

“She would be right there, her family and old teammates nearby. I can’t take the risk.”

Zabuza nods. He gets it. He can tell her Ren won’t defect, but it means shit if they let her go and enable it to happen. “Take me. I’m convincing enough as a guard, and I know a couple Konoha shinobi. Don’t take Ao – the Hyuga will have a conniption. Take Chojuro. He’s diplomatic and level-headed, even if he is a bit of a pussy.

“That’s two people. The other one for your entourage… That Hiroshi kid is supposed to be good. We can grab him, and we can call it a day. She says they can accommodate up to four of us.”

Mei writes it down. “I’m going to look at some other potential members for the three-man squad I’ll be taking. You’ll definitely have a place, and I think you’re right about Ao. He would keep it as private as he could, but it’s not a risk we can afford.

“I’ll tell you by the end of the week who else to pull together and inform. We leave beginning of next week.”

Zabuza nodded. “Alright.”

There was silence and then something occurred to her. “Is it true Suigetsu picked the four most volatile genin he could find?”

“He seems to think she’ll turn them into absolute monsters by the time she has them tested for the chunin exams.” Mei’s brow furrowed, and she looked up. “And it’s not the volatility I’m worried about. Yes, she has the Suzume girl, and she’s known for less than stellar emotional control, but the whole group is a bit mismatched. I’m not sure if they’ll even work out or if we’ll have to reassign.”

Zabuza laughed. “He may have told you it was to make some powerhouses, but I’m pretty sure this is just some convoluted revenge for her shooting him into a lake at the end of the war.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm posting a second time this week because:   
> 1\. It's the weekend today, officially. I'm spending it writing papers, but that's life.   
> 2\. Finals start next week. This shouldn't affect the updating schedule, as I'm roughly 8 chapters ahead in terms of writing, but I want to celebrate with you, the readers, that I am almost done with my second year of university.


	4. Chapter 4

Her genin had figured the test out on their own pretty quickly, meaning Ren was still stuck in-village for quite a while, Mei asking for her to give a longer start to them. She was to fill out a team progress report in the next few weeks, recommending testing, rearrangement, or remedial training.

Once they started working more together, it wasn’t the worst thing.  

“Line up.”

All four lined up but had learned not to do it too close – she had trained that out of them quickly. Get too close to an enemy and you would lose a hand.

“Lay out the protocol for genin missions in peacetime.”

“You don’t know?”

Ren rolled her eyes, flicking a Water Needle at Suzume. “I know the protocol. I need to know _you_ lot know.”

Takeshi stepped forward. “We will be responsible for the strategy, the execution, and the aftermath of the mission. You will, if all goes well, not be seen or interact with the mission. We are to do our best to complete the mission on our own talents.”

“And?”

Takeshi had recited the mission manual to the letter, but he had missed out what she had tried to drill into them over the last several days.

It was Kimiko that stepped up. “And afterward we will debrief and discuss what we need to improve on, or how to take what we did well and make it better.”

Ren nodded. “Good.”

That was a starting point.

*

Hiroshi marveled at Konoha. His parents had always said that one day they would get him there. That he would see the city they still had fond feelings for, even after everything. They never had, and it was bittersweet seeing the village without either parent with him.  Still, there were some things off-putting.

Shinobi ran around with their hair down bothered him, for one. Not only was it somewhat… condescending? He couldn’t put his finger on it, but there was something about it that was picking at him. It just wasn’t done in Kiri. Your hair was put back by a headband if it was long, at the very least, but more usually the minimum was a tied back tail.

The amount of color everywhere was another thing. Even the bands on hitae-ite here had a whole range of colors. While there was some variation in Kirigakure, there was reason for the colors of cloth each shinobi had to hold their forehead protector in place. Colors outside of blue or black were special – they were something your teammates or your significant other or your closest friends picked for you, something that was a gift when you reached Jonin. Shinobi in Kirigakure didn’t just pick a color anytime they wanted, which seemed to be the system here from what he could tell.

As were all the smiling faces. He knew that peacetime bred complacency, but he also couldn’t help feeling something was going to try and kill him and the others any second now. He couldn’t trust the calm in the village. Mei pulled him aside as they were shown to their lodgings. “You don’t have to be so jumpy. We are here for three days, and Konoha are still technically our allies.”

“Yeah.” Hiroshi nodded. He just wanted to be back underground with R and D testing things that probably shouldn’t have even left the design process, but that made for an interesting challenge nonetheless. “I mean, yes, Mizukage-sama.”

Mei nodded before gathering her things. “I’m having dinner with the Hokage tonight to open discussions. You three stay here. You understand, I’m sure, the general protocol.”

Hiroshi nodded. There was a small seal paper. If it started burning their kage needed them to seek her out and defend her. She would burn it as soon as she felt necessary.

“I still don’t like this.” Chojuro was still a bit antsy, as he had been notoriously throughout the war, but he had gained some level of confidence from his teammates. “Even if you will be close by, why is it you have to meet her alone the first time?”

Mei clearly understood his question’s intent. “It’s a show of trust. We are negotiating one of her own shinobi – one that was left with us so long as to be legally ours. This could have started a war with past regimes, with past leaders. It needs to be handled very carefully. And the best way to do that is to build trust in the beginning with a one on one dinner between the two of us.”

Chojuro was appeased enough to stay silent, but Hiroshi could still see the tension in his muscles.

*

The dinner was meant, more than for trust, as a way for Mei and Tsunade to talk without interference. It would be easy for discussions to get derailed if their advisors were let into the discussion.

It was also a moment for Mei to meet the Nara family head, to meet Ren’s father, and express her condolences. It was common practice when a shinobi changed hands to do so, to apologize for splitting their family. Maybe one day Ren would be able to walk into Konoha, be able to visit her family, but there was no guarantee.

In the Warring Clans era, Kiri would make transferred shinobi swear off ties – as barbaric to the soul as the graduation ritual later imposed – to their former family. Mei had no intention of letting that continue, just as she was amending the Academy curriculum to allow for just as vicious a person to graduate without having to kill members of their class.

But the dinner didn’t start for several hours, giving her a chance to make an important stop.

*

Their first mission was a 2-week D-rank assignment to one of the satellite villages on another island. It was a three-hour run, with minor sessions of running over the thicker, open rivers cutting throughout the mass of islands that made up the Land of Water.

Ren ran behind them a few yards. She knew she was only supposed to supervise, but she could already tell she would be more hands-on than some Kiri Jonin-supervisors were. She had come from a culture where the supervisor was a sensei – she couldn’t shed the value of that experience so easily as to follow rote the procedures and systems she had witnessed and that had been explained to her in Kiri.

They would reach their station by nightfall. She would have to check in and get their tasks for the next day, but her genin – who were wearing out even if they tried not to show it – would be able to rest.

*

She had left early, and she had found herself at the Nara clan compound. Nara Shikaku was the Konoha Jonin Commander – he would be present at the dinner.

But Nara Yoshino was a Chuunin only returned to active duty in the last few years, if her intelligence was to be believed. She wouldn’t be there, she wouldn’t be part of the discussion. Even though Ren was adopted – and she had to be with that blood red hair and those bright green eyes. That coloring that was either Uzumaki or Terumi – Yoshino had mothered her. She had raised her for who knows how many years, holding her close and training her and coaching her on how to stand back up after someone knocked her down.

Mei remembered her own mother. Her mother had watched her youngest child die, watched her waste away and there was nothing they could do about it. Her sister had gotten sick when Mei was only eight. When she had just started at the Academy, her brothers – twins that became increasingly irked with each other as time passed, but had always, always been inseparable until the day of the war – to start the next year.

Mei had watched her mother ache for her children as they left her one by one, some permanently and some just too distant for her to reach, permanently weakened by the disease.

As much as Riko unwittingly let on that as the adopted child she was sure she was less important in the eyes of her clan, it was undoubtedly difficult for Yoshino to know her daughter wouldn’t be coming back. If Mei had to guess, Riko was as much her child as Shikamaru, even if Riko didn’t let herself see it that way.

The Nara that was leading Mei through the compound stopped, hesitating before the door of what had to be Yoshino’s house. As much as Mei was dolled up in her formalwear, her Kage coat over an ornate kimono woven with symbols of Kiri, as much as the dark violet hitae-ite that remained tied around her neck told of the training she had undergone over the course of her life, she felt smaller than the day her mother sent her away to the Kirigakure Shinobi Academy with a demand that she better herself to protect her family.

Nara Yoshino was a tall, imposing woman. Years off active duty hadn’t left her without a presence she had undoubtedly cultivated over years in the ranks of Konoha.

“Mizukage-sama.”

“Nara-san.” Mei bowed low, as apologetic in her posture and manner as she dared let herself be. “May we talk?”

Nara bowed before stepping to let her into the home. “Please come in.”

*

She was right. Nightfall had just struck when they got into the satellite village. The chuunin on guard duty at the gate ran the genin through the standard procedure of entering any Kirigakure satellite before making the signal necessary for her to come out.

She would have to sign off on their entry into the satellite. There would be a small apartment that was used by another group before them and one before that, and it would be sparse, but it would have enough space for the five of them to live for two weeks.

Living with your team was one way to really enforce bonds.

She had made sure they all took one of the two available rooms – she would be taking the other – before she sat at the scarred wooden table to look through their tasks for the next day.

Rebuilding in a village a 20-minute run away. Some fishing to help feed some of the sick and injured that couldn’t seek their own food out after the war.

They would have a few hours helping with the night watch as well, meaning they would have to finish by mid-afternoon to be back in their assigned village with enough time to get their assignment and plan out their watch. Some insurgents wandered the bogs and swamps of Kiri and attacked smaller villages or satellites, hoping to destabilize Mei’s regime.

A long day, but definitely easier on them than anything they would have suffered or seen in the war.

Sighing, she looked at her own assignments. She would be supervising some of their work in the morning, but their evening watch was the time for her to go out on missions for the village.

A lot more to her work than to theirs. She would have to ration her chakra carefully in the morning.

*

Yoshino was the kind of woman, once she relaxed a bit, that Mei could have been dear friends with if they had been born into the same village and the same type of world.

Sure, they were on the same earth, but her reality had been far darker than Yoshino’s, and something of that stuck to Mei as they spoke.

“I am truly sorry your daughter will not be returning to you.”

Yoshino was still somewhat tense. Likely, Mei considered, she was worried she would offend the Mizukage. Kirigakure had yet to return to a stiff form of manners, and offense was hard to come by in her village. The war had thrown most non-necessary social nicety out the window – the only necessity for events such as when gaining the legitimation of the Daimyo after defeating most of the rebels – and shinobi were fairly direct with each other, at the very least in her village. Yoshino would have no way of knowing this, though. Would have no way of knowing that she was speaking to a leader whose shinobi addressed her as ‘Mizukage-sama’ as often as they did ‘Mei-san’.

“I will miss her. She is dear to me.”

Mei knew when she took this job she was taking on massive responsibilities. She was taking on the lives of her soldiers. She was taking on the responsibility of avoiding wars with the other nations while maintaining a clear capability to survive _while both of her jinchuuriki were missing_. Facts that were surely known to the other villages by now.

She didn’t have her ultimate deterrent, so she would have to work harder to be sure her conventional forces could withstand a threat without seeming like a paper tiger – a delicate balance, for sure, but one she would figure out.

But more than that, she was taking on people. People with families and lovers and friends and lives. And she had several who had come from far away and who had left people behind.

“Perhaps one day you will see her again.”

Yoshino smiled, setting the tea in front of Mei. “I would like that. I don’t know why she would have reason to come to Konoha, or myself to go to Kirigakure, though, Mizukage-sama.

“It is a sweet thought, though, and I appreciate it.”

Mei bowed, accepting the tea and letting herself talk more with Yoshino.

She had time before the dinner, and it was the least she could do for Yoshino.


	5. Chapter 5

Genma was infinitely glad that he had been given such a detailed brief about his mission location. Apparently, a Saito Haruka of the Kirigakure research department had written it on orders from the Mizukage when Konoha’s assistance was requested. He could practically feel that there was something political going on behind the scenes, but Genma wasn’t going to bother with trying to suss it out. Any interest he had had in politics had been fueled by Minato, and it died with him.

The problem with villages coming out of rebellion was that there were a lot of deserters. Secrets weren’t usually entrusted to people until they reached the rank of jonin within the rebellion as a result, and even then there was a significant amount of mistrust unless they had proven themselves loyal. Even in wars, there were a significant number of deserters – Genma had witnessed it enough in the Third War to know that judging or trying to bring them in wasn’t worth it. They weren’t cut out for the Shinobi lifestyle, and had probably punished themselves enough in guilt and shame. The villages couldn’t do much more than that, other than taking their lives.

And after a war, that was usually the last thing any shinobi wanted to do.

Deserters, whether from war or rebellion, typically didn’t cause an issue later. They went and started families or started businesses. Genma had read that in Kiri, after the war, a couple had come out of the woodwork, maimed by the war but supporting the new regime with shinobi-oriented shops. The rapport built up quick, and the new Mizukage seemed more than willing to let it slide.  

It had strengthened the economy, it had increased bonds between shinobi and civilians, but it wasn’t every case.

There were the few that abdicated so they could fight for their own bottom line – understandable given the circumstances, but also despicable. They would sell out anyone, at least as far Genma had seen.

Deserters’ faces and names were circulated quickly in the event that they were working against or nefariously within other villages. Especially after the Invasion of Konoha a few years prior, the incentive to capture traitors and runners was much higher.  

It seemed that type of preparation hadn’t been for naught. Hideyoshi Saika had been a phenomenon every village had and every village was suspect of – the eternal Gennin. He would seem to make progress and then would sabotage himself before promotion during the war, often causing damage around him.

 His official cover was that he had ‘tracked’ Hideyoshi after seeing him trafficking some contraband over Konoha borders. It wasn’t exactly a lie – Hideyoshi took the connections he made and started a massive smuggling ring.

Slipping along the path, Genma decided to track him a while longer before attacking.

*

The dinner started precisely on time. Mei was there shortly after her tea with Yoshino. The two weren’t going to be friends anytime soon, but Mei’s conscience felt a little lighter knowing she had at least reached out to the woman.

Now she had her soldier’s father to deal with.

“Thank you for coming to continue this discussion in Konoha, Mizukage-san.” Tsunade bowed to Mei, low enough for respect without being so low as to risk conveying any superiority. Mei reciprocated, careful to show ever so slightly more respect. This was not her village.

But damn were manners such a pain.

“Hokage-san.”

*

Her evening missions weren’t going to be bad, if the first night was anything to go by. Running things through rougher areas, hunting down aggressive missing-nin in the area, and the like. Simple missions that were just a bit over the heads of her four genin.

She started taking work in the satellite as well, working enough that she was picking up a decent amount of extra cash while her genin were doing stuff within sensing-distance just outside the satellite.

Today, though, they were far enough out that she got to sleep in a tree while they did some de-trenching in the further out agricultural areas outside a nearby village. Trenches had been useful in the war, but were making it hard for some areas to return to work.

Hard labor was good for the shinobi’s soul, though. And they were already starting to work together more effectively with the occasional guidance from other shinobi or from herself.

Too bad her luck followed them, and they couldn’t get through a few days without something going wrong.

*

The room was tense through the beginning of dinner but things settled into the reason the event was held in the first place – politics.

“I am sure you understand, Terumi-san, why we must request this.”

“Why you may feel the need and why her father feel the need are entirely different, Senju-san.” Mei lowered her head slightly. “But either way, I cannot release that kind of information.”

“We only ask for her personnel file, Terumi-sama.” Shikaku was holding her gaze, the desperate search for information well concealed behind the sharp, almost scolding look he was giving her. “Surely a chuunin’s file isn’t so marred in secrecy that your village would keep it hidden?”

“She is not a chuunin, Nara-san. She is a jonin, and her file is classified respectively.”

Shikaku seemed more uncomfortable than proud. And, Mei supposed, it made sense. Jonin were sent on the most dangerous missions, and once a shinobi became a jonin their life expectancy was nearly cut in half.

That did not mean she had to cater to a worried parent. If she catered to every worried parent she wouldn’t have a military.

Tsunade sat straighter. “What sections of her file would be available?”

Nearly everything. Her time under ANBU wouldn’t be, nor would certain sections of reports, but she knew she could give them a lot.

“Until she reached Jonin.”

She wasn’t going to give them everything, though. It wasn’t wise to give _that much_ information to any other power, regardless whether they were ally or not. Tsunade and Nara gave her looks, simultaneously condemning her for restricting and pleading for more information.

“Mizukage-san, surely we would be privy to more information.”

“I’m afraid I would have to keep some of that information classified. She is my shinobi, this is my decision.” She smiled. “As of now, I have certified this information safe to share between villages. I hope it will at least ease your curiosity.”

She had come prepared, and she was glad for it. Zabuza had been the one to suggest it, shrugging off allegations that he cared-by-proxy about Ren’s family, much less that he cared about Ren to begin with.

Tsunade took the file, raising a brow as she caught the name. “This was what she called herself undercover? I would have thought she would have known to fly under the radar.”

Mei laughed. “That is one thing I’m glad she _didn’t_ do.”

*

Their first few days of mini-missions went fine. Except for the sniping at each other, things were actually going well.

It was Ren’s missions that went sideways, and her nights were spent half on missions and half in a medics’ tent, where she had to face the fact that the one assigning the mission – an old partner when she was training into the Hunter Corps – _was purposefully assigning her a lighter mission load than she did most jonin._

“You’re the one with the shit luck, Akagi-chan.”

Ren rolled her eyes while a medic bandaged her arm. “You’re just doing this to get back at me for the Foresters Battles.”

“Possibly. Or I genuinely think you need to be given space to be treated. And, ya know. To _sleep_. You do have a genin team you’re minding all day. A lighter mission load means you still get your pay and they still have a teacher who can stand on her feet.”

Ren groaned. “Why are we wasting bandages, then? I can heal myself if they would just,” one of the medics started going at one of her cuts, prompting her to push his hand away and curse. “let me.”

Kauruko, the satellite commander, was a Terumi and had all the spunk and charm of Mei with some of the more fluid personality of her father’s family – a merchant family that had been very keen on helping finance the revolution.

Kauruko, however, also knew enough about Ren from training her to know when she was on her bullshit. So, instead of letting it slide, she took Ren’s small pouch from where it was set aside – the one she kept her mission scrolls in – and took all of them out. “Tomorrow, you’re just working with your genin then working here. The medics don’t like the idea of so much medical chakra in your system so many nights in a row, hence the bandages and stitches instead of healing.”

“I had it way more often in the war.”

“And I distinctly remember some side effects.”

“I’ve probably had worse side effects working with Hiroshi.”

“I’ve read the redacted report – Mei sent it my way when she sent your mission roster and told me to pull you off when I thought you were going overboard.” Kauruko laughed, lighting a cigarette. "I was your trainer. Anytime we have to work together I get to read just about anything on you I want. And that includes what you and that Hiroshi brat are working on." 

Ren rolled her eyes. “There’s never been any getting around you.”

“Nope. Now come on. You’re chilling out here for a few days and then you guys have to head out. Try to keep that luck of yours in check while you're on rest, though." 

"I make no promises." Ren found herself laughing with Kauruko as they finished her treatment. 


	6. Chapter 6

Genma had misjudged his timing for this attack. He figured if he came in while Hideyoshi was just waking up, it would be easy to get the jump on him. The clone he had guard him at night was always dispelled just before he got up, and he had thought that would be plenty of time.

He was wrong, clearly, by the kunai wound in his arm.

Ducking another attack, Genma launched a kunai of his own towards Hideyoshi,  

It missed. It fucking _missed_. He hated Eternal Genin. Hated them more than he hated a lot of things right now, but he couldn’t focus on that or he would get sloppy.

Ducking a fist as Hideyoshi came in closer, he felt something prick his arm.

A senbon. A senbon significantly darker than normal ones, and with a slight sweet smell coming off of it. Definitely poisoned, but Genma couldn’t determine right then what type and if he had to worry because now he had a deadline to finish the fight.

_Fuck._

*

The remaining days of Mei’s stay were to be dedicated to diplomacy and alliance negotiations, something she was glad for. As much as runners were useful, it was hard to ensure that messages got through in their entirety, even when they were written down. Diplomats were the next best option, but any chance for in-person negotiations would both normalize relations between Konoha and Kirigakure and offer an opportunity to clean up the reputation. Coming out of a bloody civil war when already known as the Bloody Mist didn’t help their reputation, but the active reforms being made wouldn’t be circulated for quite some time.

Merchants and refugees would want to wait and ensure regime stability before coming back to the village, meaning news of reforms would be taken with a liberal helping of salt and wouldn’t likely be talked about in the general public arena for at least another year. The Land of Water could subsist on those they had, Kirigakure as it stood now would make sure of that. Civilian support across their country, as dispersed as it sometimes felt, would be critical in preventing another war. 

Face to face negotiations had, from the first meeting she had with Tsunade to set the agenda for the remaining meetings that had been planned, gone far smoother as well. When there was tone with the words, both parties had a far better understanding of which conditions were negotiable, nonnegotiable, and which were simply facts – whether narrative facts used mostly for in-village purposes, and thus not inherently fact in and of themselves, or facts of the goings on within the other’s village that made a determination for how far the village could push their luck with their populace.

If all continued to go so smoothly, then this alliance might just go through smoothly, meaning Kiri could re-establish itself without too much worry over the lack of jinchuuriki.

The biggest issue was the one she had been holding back, waiting for personal rapport.

Better now than later, though, when she was about to leave and didn’t have time to convince Tsunade it was the best course of action.

“I intend to reveal her identity. It’s already been discussed with her, and the process has already been started. We will take care of the cost of updating your Bingo Book, if you choose to edit her listing therein.”

“What?”

*

Takeshi was thinking about the things he had noticed happening around him (namely, that his supervisor’s appearance was _changing_ without explanation) during the mission they had been given this morning when he heard it. Some kind of scuffle over by the river – definitely at least one person. Given how remote this was, and the fact the villagers had mentioned not moving towards the river because of traps and trenches, he had to guess it was shinobi.

Tapping on Suzume’s shoulder, he gestured for her to follow him. If she was as smart as she was supposed to be – which he didn’t doubt, as much as he needled her about reckless behavior – she would get the other two to follow them. He was right, and he could feel her at his back, ready to jump to his defense if needed. Truly a Kirigakure team if their supervisor was to be believed - putting aside their own squabbles in order to resolve a threat they had sensed. 

He recognized the man without a hitae-ite – he had been a teammate of his once before Takeshi was redirected and dropped into a team with Suzume for the first time. The Konoha shinobi, not so much. But that didn’t matter, because Takeshi had heard about what Hideyoshi had done before taking off.

He had murdered a fresh genin (though he knew that currently in Kiri that wasn’t exactly an accurate term) and her family because she saw him leaving with supplies desperately needed at the outpost. Loyalty was the first thing drilled into Kiri shinobi, especially under Mei. You didn’t go after your fellow shinobi because your fellow shinobi had your back. You didn’t kill a civilian because the civilians were the reason you were fighting and now the reason you were working day in and day out for the village.

And Hideyoshi had spit on that.

Turning to his three teammates, he whispered. “I’ll get his attention. You three come at him from angles.”

“That’s a shitty plan, Takeshi.”

“I know, but we don’t have time to trap him – he’s already got someone almost dead.”

“What do we care about a Konoha shinobi?”

“The Mizukage is literally trying to finish a treaty _right_ _now_. It’ll look great if we save one of Konoha’s own.”

Suzume groaned quietly. “Fine.”

And that’s what they did. He could _feel_ Ren-sempai judging him and his stupid plan from wherever she was hidden _._  Sure, he was probably imagining it, but he knew it was happening. If she wasn't judging him yet, she was going to when things inevitably went sideways. 

She also wouldn’t come in until she felt necessary, because that was what her job was. Let them screw up so they could learn, but prevent death if and when it was possible. The job of the jonin supervisor in Kirigakure.

Turns out she was needed fairly early on, because he had just gotten pulled to the side of an attack by Suzume when Hideyoshi turned a blade on Masuyo, nearly taking her head off and getting ready to fling an assassination jutsu at her now that she was too close to get away in time when she came in and swiped with her own sword at Hideyoshi's free hand. 

“Secure the injured ally.” Oh yeah, she was judging his planning.

*

“Mei-san,” Tsunade glanced at her desk drawer. Mei _thought_ she had smelled sake somewhere in this office, “You can’t be serious. Revealing her identity so suddenly would ensure her quick and _brutal_ assassination. If you were going to set her up for this anyway, you should have just sent her back.”

“You seem to forget – Ren has been undeniably helpful in our civil war. Beyond that, she has a number of reputations that cast her favorably in the eyes of her fellow shinobi.”

“They won’t take kindly to a traitor in the village.”

“This is where our villages differ, Tsunade-san.” Mei smiled. “She was increasingly loyal to her fellow shinobi, and extremely capable throughout our war. That alone would gain her significant reprieve in the eyes of most of the shinobi that have worked with her. You forget, many of our current forces are former missing-nin or people who fled other countries to join up. The others will be swayed by other factors. What those factors are is neither here nor there, because she is already revealing her identity. The seal will be out of chakra by the time I arrive back, and she will be fully viewed as Akagi Ren, former Konoha shinobi Nara Riko.

“If you had issues with how I might handle her while she was under my care, _you_ should never have sent her to my war-zone.”

*

Genma didn’t know what to think when four short, angry, and _lethal_ brats dropped into the fight. All four were surprisingly capable for how young they looked, and they fought with the kind of grace that said they had seen battle before. Given this was Kiri, it wasn’t too unlikely they had. And given how well they were handling things, maybe it was true when other Villages said peacetime had made Konoha and their shinobi complacent.

He was swaying on his feet but still helping from the sidelines while he tried to narrow down the poison and find an antidote in his belt. It was becoming painfully obvious that he hadn’t developed an immunity to this poison – he might never have even come across it.

The red-head that looked _way_ too familiar – like a mix of a chick out of the Bingo Book and the Nara brat he had run into various times in Konoha – was another surprise. While the four kids ran up on her command and started trying to treat his wounds – “What did it smell like? Did the weapon look any different? What are your symptoms?” – the red-head landed in front of Hideyoshi and was already at the man’s throat.

Hideyoshi kept up fairly well – Genma really felt like Eternal Genin that didn’t enter the Corps should just be automatically discharged at three years at this point, because they were never worth keeping around and when they turned on you they were a _pain in the ass to kill_ – and dodged several of the kunai.

“You’ll have to do better than some fucking assassination tactics, senpai.”

The scoff-and-head-tilt combo was so _Hatake_ that Genma did a double take. “Alright then.”

 Maybe that really was Riko. She had been sent off on a clandestine training mission – no one knew where or when, but the word around the Jonin lounge had been Kiri. It was possibly the only place a water-natured standout like her wouldn’t stand out so much. Iwa and Kumo might have sufficed, but ties weren't close enough to guarantee she wouldn't be immediately exposed as an undercover agent from Konoha, tortured for information, then summarily executed. 

Suddenly there was a sword in her hand and she was charging towards Hideyoshi. He parried the blade with a long-blade dagger and then came in close, where she grabbed his fist, coming in with a headbutt to his nose.

Genma felt a pinch in his arm.

The girl treating him – Kimiko, if he remembered correctly – smirked. “Ren-senpai is good, and I know that’s something a lot of shinobi are attracted to, but she’s 16.”

“That’s not-“

“She’s just giving you shit, Konoha-san.” The boy sat across from him. “Everyone knows the only people crazy enough to be attracted to senpai work in R and D. At least here in Kiri. I don’t know what passes for ‘normal’ by Konoha standards, much less ‘appropriate’.”

The kid was smirking at him, practically betraying the fact he was trying to prickle Genma into responding. Was he being hazed by genin? What the hell?

“Look, if that’s who I think it is, she used to live in my village. I remember her Academy days – no way can I be attracted to a brat.”

Suzume whacked the back of his head. “Good. Because then we would have to give you the old-style Kiri welcome and hang your entrails from the trees.”

“What the hell? Are Kiri genin always this violent?”

“They just haven’t gotten it out of their systems yet. They’ll mellow out by the time their chuunin. Hopefully.”

At first he thought it was a clone, but with Hideyoshi bound in ninja wire behind her it became clear it was Ren in front of him, taking over for Kimiko. “This is a standard Kiri poison, Kimiko. Hideyoshi was a genin, and poisons were tightly controlled during the war. You should start developing an immunity yourself, but we can start on that when we head back to the village.”

“You said two weeks, senpai. But something tells me he can’t go home just yet.”

“Ideally, we wouldn’t send him home, no. Go back to the satellite. Get Kauruko and a runner. I’ll have a write-up ready and they’ll have to haul ass to get it to Konoha in time, but if we can catch it before the Mizukage leaves, we might be able keep him and avoid an international incident.”

“Why? She treated me,” Genma looked at Ren. “There’s no reason to keep me.”

“This poison targets the nerves. It might not have been in your system long, but it’s fast-acting, and we need at least a few days to make sure that you don’t have any lasting damage, though ideally we would keep you about a week. It’ll be easier to ensure if we treat you locally instead of sending you out with the remedy and instructions, without considering the risk of sending you way with village secrets. If you don’t want to go in-village, we might at least be able to put you on medical watch back at the satellite.

“Heads up, though, the shinobi there will be worse about a foreigner than my genin were. Just so you know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He didn’t get a chance to make a decision. Exhaustion of multiple days stalking a target and exposure to the poison caught up with him, and he pitched forward.

*

The most disturbing thing about Konoha had nothing to do with the tensions in diplomacy that had started up since Mei revealed that Ren would be revealing herself, or the fact that the reputation of the Bloody Mist followed herself and her contingent wherever they went.

It was that their jinchuuriki – one of two, possibly three, that weren’t dead – wasn’t secure. He should have, at the very least, had a guard corp around him in the shadows. Otherwise, there was nothing to prevent him from being kidnapped by Akatsuki. The pink-haired girl and the broody boy with dark hair didn’t seem too impressive, and the jounin – Ren’s own former sensei if she wasn’t mistaken – could only realistically take one of the monsters. Hatake Kakashi or no, she had seen what he was capable of during the war, when circumstnaces demanded it, and she wasn't impressed with what she saw of the man now. It may have been an act of complacency and incompetency, but that was not a risk she could afford when their enemy was so clearly intent on fulfilling the mission of taking all the jinchuuriki. 

She took the first moment of privacy to start drafting a plan with Zabuza.

“We need to figure out who will be on the Kill Squad. In the meantime, we’ll keep Ren in-village with her genin on more local missions,” Mei looked at the rough outline of who they figured would help balance out against the Akatsuki, and the more she looked at it the more she thought there was a specific group of people _both_ of them had in mind for this semi-mission, “In the meantime, bring up her training on the Kiba. She’s going to need every advantage we can give her. Her experience in the Hunter Corps and in ANBU will stand her in solid stead as a leader for the team, second-in-command at the very least.”

Zabuza nodded. “It might be good to have her running out of village once in a while too. She goes a little stir-crazy being kept in too much, and this reveal plan of yours could backfire spectacularly.”

“As long as Tsunade-san doesn’t know that, then we can handle whatever comes when we get back.”

*

Genma had always hated hospitals. They were too still, too quiet, and too clean.

The hospital in the main village of Kirigakure (one of many curious things he had found out – the Kirigakure shinobi system spread out across the islands with various pseudo-villages that his escort, then the nurses, had called satellites) was none of those things. It was clean enough for the Kiri shinobi coming in and out, but even with the doors closed things were bustling and busy. People were everywhere, and the informality that seemed to permeate Kiri culture meant there was yelling, cursing, and celebrating all wherever people happened to be.

Not a bad system, even if the Hokage would have a conniption at the state of things. There were five people in his room when he woke up, though, talking in moderate voices like they were filling time while acting as guards. Given he was a foreigner, that was a very real possibility.

“So we’re starting with what we did poorly, then we will look at our strengths before we start war-gaming alternate scenarios.”

Nara Riko was sitting right in front of him, acting like she didn’t even know him. Wearing a Kirigakure hitae-ite like she didn’t have a past in Konoha. He wouldn't lie to himself that it didn't sting seeing her so comfortable here, either. She wore Kiri on her back as though she had been reared there - it was in her posture, her expressions (far more blunt than any he had seen her wear in Konoha), and in her speech. 

“So when were you going to confirm your identity to me? You had to realize looking more and more like your old self would raise the alarm.”

She gave him a look. “I’m under orders.” Quick, blunt, to the point. He kind of like that attitude. At least there was less guesswork when figuring out what someone was thinking. She glanced back from him to the younger four people in front of her. “Alright. What did Takeshi do wrong?”

“Oh, I know this!” The girl with a reddish-orange mop shot forward, sending the same smartass look he had just seen on Ren's face at the only boy in the group (Takeshi, then). “He rushed in with a shit-faced plan.”

“Language.” Ren rolled her eyes. “You can say whatever the fuck you want when you’re chuunin.

“But, yes. Takeshi had an underdeveloped plan.” Ren rounded on the girl that had spoken. “Would you like to discuss what you could have done better in the mission, or would you like Suzume or Masuyo to do so?”

A girl with green-ish hair, not unlike the swampy water in some parts of the Land of Water, perked up. “Kimiko didn’t stop to consider how she might focus her abilities in the group objective of fighting Hideyoshi Saika.”

“Good job, Masuyo. Suzume?”

“I didn’t stop to consider a better strategy. I let my teammates down by not playing to my strengths.

“But how are we supposed to get better? Just because we know what we did wrong doesn’t mean we know how to fix it.”

Genma wanted to interrupt the conversation, but Riko reached behind her and pulled out a board and some small shapeless figures.

“We’re using this,” a blue figure was placed in the field, “to be Shiranui-san. This, “ a red piece, “is Hideyoshi. You four will be these gray pieces.” Ren leaned back. “What did you all do well in the mission, and not just in the part involving a missing-nin. What did you do well on the assignments? What have you done well with in training?”

The four were quiet, looking between each other. It might have been somewhat unusual in Konoha to see this level of un-guiding guidance, but he could see them starting to think through parts of a mission he had no idea of. Eventually, Suzume piped up. “I was good at strength-based assignments. Lifting or pushing things. Especially if I used chakra.”

The others started listing strengths. Chakra control, planning. There were several ideas thrown out, and Genma found himself leaning over the board.

“How could we have applied these here?”

And that’s when Genma started engaging in the discussion.

*

Several hours later, and he had chatted a bit with Ren and come to a conclusion that they were the same individual but very different people. He remembered a bright-eyed, fresh chuunin that ran in circles with the Uzumaki even when other students at the Academy didn’t want to, that was Nara Riko.

Akagi Ren would have run with Uzumaki Naruto, too. There was still that impish mischief in her eyes. But it was harder, jaded even. She was undoubtedly lethal, and in such a way that the very way she carried herself said as much about her lethality as it did about her loyalties. It wasn’t something one could hide, but it wasn’t something you recognized without years of experience behind you, either. And Akagi Ren was a clear indicator of both her own lethality and her own experience, because even in a hospital bed she saw it in Genma that he was equally lethal, and had kept herself (and earlier her gennin squad) positioned accordingly, likely without even noticing or consciously thinking about it.

“Any reason you haven’t left this room?” There was another redhead standing in the doorway. He was just as deadly, if Genma had to guess, but his posture was far looser. He moved in the way people who advanced under peacetime did. He didn’t have the battle-twitch in his hand towards a kunai when a door slammed down the hall.  

“Because he needs a guard. 24/7.” Ren was smirking at him.

“And you didn’t think to go home and tell one of your teammates to cover while you sleep? Suigetsu and Haku are both in-village and you know it.”

“He leaves in like, two days. I can handle staying up that long.”

“Last time you did it, you came back hallucinating.”

“It didn’t affect my accuracy.”

Genma piped up on their conversation. “Kid, why the hell would you think you had to stay as my only guard?”

“Because she cares too much.” The redhead leaned against her chair, giving a two-fingered salute. “Hiroshi. Pleased to meet you.”

Ren scowled. “What do you mean I care too much? Maybe I’m just trying to maintain a reputation and protect our alliance.”

“You got that reputation _because_ you care too much, and you damn well know it.” Hiroshi smiled at Genma, likely seeing his confusion. “Ren-chan has a perfect record of mission partners coming back. Quite the thing in a war.”

It certainly was. Ren scowled at Hiroshi, though, instead passing the book off to him. “I’m not done yet. Don’t move my bookmark.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Your note on page 34 is wrong, by the way. I don’t know why yet, I just know it is.”

Hiroshi laughed. “Maybe you’ll see things my way once you’ve had some sleep.”

“Don’t count on it, ‘Roshi. You have a tendency to throw theory out the window with Fuuinjutsu.”

“I know not to, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, what good has theory ever done when creating new seals? My most successful ones should never have worked if you listened to theory alone.”

“They also blow up in your face at least a couple times before you get them to work.” Ren waved at him as she left, barely missing someone’s shoulder as she walked down the hallway.

“So, would you like to talk, or stay silent?” Hiroshi smiled, a slight tilt to his head. “There’s nothing wrong with either.”

“How has she been here?”

Hiroshi sobered up. “Kiri has never been easy. We all cope the best we can.”

“And if you can’t?”

Hiroshi laughed. “Ren’s not got the healthiest coping mechanisms, but we’ve got our people here. We keep an eye on each other.”

It was vague. It told him nothing, but that was to be expected. It made him feel a little better, even so. He knew too many people back home that would worry about the brat.


	7. Chapter 7

The last day of negotiations brought word of Shiranui Genma – his brief stint in the hospital and the details of his escort to the border of Fire Country. Tsunade sighed. She had been worried when he hadn’t come back on time, but that he had run into just the right kind of shinobi (she was avoiding the headache that came with knowing _who_ he had run into) and managed to stay alive long enough to come back.

Tsunade sighed. There was a lot she could be doing right now, and none of it was stuff she wanted to do. Instead, she wanted to get hammered and complain about her problems to Jiraiya or to her Jonin commander.

But she had serious work to do, and a foreign leader to send off. A group of volatile-at-best shinobi to tell a dear friend wasn’t coming back.

Her day was looking just cheery.

*

Genma didn’t really know what to think of Kirigakure, other than he was glad he was gone. Gray stone, gray skies, and gray clothing, the only color in the village had been the hair, skin, and eyes of the citizens and shinobi. Coming from a village that had so much green, brown, and blue, it was hard to look at for so long.

And the people were…

The people of Kirigakure were rough. They were crass, even, if Genma had cared about manners. They didn’t follow typical manners, and it made sense because everywhere you turned you saw someone maimed, someone scarred, someone _scared_.

It was like jumping back to a twisted mirror of Konoha twenty years ago. Even with the colors of spring that first year after the Third War, there had been a stiffness. Even after the Kyuubi attacked, that stiffness was still there. Where Kiri seemed to become looser, rougher, and to blur the lines between civilians and shinobi, Konoha had met devastation with a forceful move towards more rigidity. The routine of etiquette and of clearly established ranks and relationships meant that there was something to fall back on.

Kirigakure and its citizens just decided, as far as Genma had seen, to fall back on each other.

As such, the walk into the village he knew, a village in which he knew where he stood, brought tension out of Genma’s shoulders he didn’t even know had been there.

Being back in village was calming.

But he wouldn’t get the image of those four students out of his head. Of Ren, either. They were all sinewy and underweight, but their movements were efficient and their situational awareness constantly attuned to the slightest of breezes or movements.

They were children of war. Plain and simple. She had become the child that Shikaku had always been grateful she hadn’t had to be.

It had been a long time since Genma had to look it in the face. He remembers, oh does he, but he had been able to put that experience, those memories in their own box and to leave them behind with the war. At least somewhat. It wasn’t the most stable way to deal with it – as Inoichi liked to remind him during their regular counseling appointments – but it was something.

He would keep it to himself. No need to worry anyone when they couldn’t change things.

*

Naruto had, predictably, been the most vocal. Sasuke had looked irate, but there was nothing he could exactly _do_ about his teammate not coming back.

Sakura was quiet, knowing by now that Tsunade usually had a point to what she did. Even if she had complained to Tsunade about her temporary assignment, there was something to be said for her patience, even now.

Kakashi was silent, still even. He was livid, and she was going to have to deal with him separately.

“You talk about her like she’s dead, Baa-chan! What the hell!? Where’s Ri-chan?”

“You’re giving me a migraine. Sit down, Naruto.”

“You wouldn’t have a migraine if you hadn’t sent Ri-chan away, because then I wouldn’t be yelling!”

Sakura spoke, quietly. “You always yell, Naruto.”

Tsunade buried her head in her hands. “Alright, this was clearly a mistake, so let’s wrap this up. The original Team 7 is officially disbanded, and instead Team 7 will now consist of the three of you in this room and one other member. For now, that’s Sakura, but she will soon be pulled off the team and replaced with a different member. You three are dismissed.” She gestured at Sasuke, Naruto, and Sakura. “Hatake, a word.”

When the door closed, she glared at Kakashi. “You knew she was going _somewhere_.”

“You didn’t have to send her to a war-zone.” Hatake was glaring at her, “The way you’re talking, she’s dead in the middle of Kirigakure, and we weren’t even given notice until now.”

“The girl couldn’t hide here. She can’t lay low to save her life, even in the middle of a goddamn war.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll find out eventually, I guess.” Tsunade threw him one of the new Bingo Books. “She isn’t in for a crime or anything. Just as a precaution.”

Kakashi scanned the page, raising an eyebrow. “ _’Do not engage without minimum 2 Jonin for back-up’_? So she isn’t dead. Are you proud of yourself? Conning her best friends and letting her go to a village known for brutality. Are you proud of the reputation _the Bloody Flower_ has? That she was your shinobi first?”

“If anyone gets to be proud it’s Terumi.” Tsunade spoke quietly, gesturing to the seat in front of her. “This will be hard for your team. I understand that. But you have to realize, there was nothing we could do. With the timing of that attack, and everything with Suna’s Kazekage – there was nothing.”

“You could have brought her back sooner.”

Tsunade sighed.

He wasn’t wrong.

Kakashi had one more question. “Why make it sound like she’s dead? Why not say she left the village, or tell them the truth?”

“You should know.” Tsunade shook her head. “The last thing we need is your boys over there running off and starting a war – putting her in a difficult position, assuming she isn’t executed on the spot to prevent defection and the revelation of village secrets.”

*

Ren walked through R and D quietly, knowing that despite the time, she would be able to find Hiroshi in his office.

“Shouldn’t you be at home? Resting?”

She pushed her mask to the side and untied the top layer of the hunter-nin uniform and ripping the long-sleeved top off so that she was in her loose, sleeveless undershirt and the pants. He probably had the necessary clearance, and revealing Hunter-Nin status was left largely to the discretion of the matter, if only to prevent suspicion within teams and families.

“Resting at homes means I have to talk to teammates.”

“Last I recalled, resting doesn’t involve talking at all.”

Ren rolled her eyes. She still hadn’t moved them from a singular spot on the wall, though. “Before I sleep, obviously.”

Hiroshi nodded. “Well, we can talk here, you can sleep on my office couch, or you can change clothes before we walk to a bar and get shitfaced. Then we go back to your team’s dorm. How’s that sound?”

“Fucking peachy.”

Before they left, though, she was staring off again, barely whispering the one question that he had started hearing more and more of as she balanced her duty as one of the few surviving jonin to her duty as a genin supervisor.

“Why’d she trust me with them?”

She was asleep before he could answer her. It had happened before, that the exhaustion got her before they could go through with plans. It wasn’t the first time they had this discussion, though, and if she could get some extra rest it would be better than getting drunk. Her missions were gruesome, and the loyalists and terrorists hiding throughout the islands often recruited young, hoping to use the death of a child to mobilize civilians and their own people as they died in battle.

It took a toll on all of them, but especially the supervisors of genin squads.

“You’ll be able to face them tomorrow.” He untied her hitae-ite, placing it on the bookshelf, just on top of the book she had been borrowing. “You’ll wake up, and you’ll be able to. You always are.”

He threw a blanket over her, one he stashed in the bottom drawer of his desk.  She knew to lock up in the morning. Sometimes she even set the office coffee maker to brew before she left, meaning the whole office came in to a pleasant surprise.

*

Takeshi kicked a rock at Suzume. “You think we’re training or doing missions today?”

Kimiko looked up from her book. “Who cares? Senpai turns everything into a training moment anyway.”

Senbon came flying at each of them. “So then why haven’t we been practicing our situational awareness?”

The four of them barely dodged before more of them started flying.

“Damn it, Ren-senpai!” Suzume launched some kunai. “What’s this for?”

“We’re sparring this morning. Then the four of you are running an in-village mission to practice running one alone, start to finish. Make sure to tell Kaoru at the Missions Desk that you’re explicitly to stay in-village, otherwise he might send you out accidentally.”

She kept up with them while giving them orders. It struck Takeshi that if it weren’t for battle-honed instincts they might all have struggled to keep track of her words and her actions. She was keeping them fresh, though, ready for anything. Instincts from the war weren’t allowed to dull, and she was ensuring they wouldn’t by sneaking up on them and then making them split their attention mid-fight.

When things settled down (when they had all received a glancing version of a potentially-lethal blow), she paired them up and started keeping an eye on both groups.

“Straighten your back, Takeshi.”

“Keep your movements tight and controlled, Suzume, otherwise you’ll wear out quicker.”

The afternoon came quicker than they expected, and they were dismissed. Takeshi _thought_ he saw a clone following them, but he wouldn’t mention it.

*

“If you’re willing to try this, the Mizukage has already signed off. You can decline, obviously, but it would probably be a decent idea to figure out just what the limits of your bloodline are.”

He wasn’t wrong, was the biggest issue. She had never thought about testing it, or about figuring out. In Konoha, she hadn’t wanted to stand out beyond what was necessary. When she first came to Kiri, not only was standing out deadly, but she had too many things to focus on.

After Sapphire Lake, the idea of using her kekkei genkai, her always-unpredictable magic, which she already didn’t understand, in combat had been petrifying.

Looking at Hiroshi’s plan, she opted to take things one step at a time.

_Initial Testing: Attempt to identify or use ability purposefully._

“Alright.”

*

When the water clone dispersed and gave her its memories, she was in the middle of trying to make what Hiroshi had dubbed her ‘second chakra’ to move. It had not been very successful. Her initial attempts at moving chakra when she was younger had been difficult, but even techniques that had helped her then weren’t helping now.

It moved, slightly, but it remained stubbornly in its flow. No movement through her chakra coils could change anything.

The memories were enough of a reason to pause the training though. Several hours of memories told her little – her team had handled the in-village assignment well.

But they didn’t have anyone looking out for them. It was mentioned in conversation that none of them had family or parents. Under Kirigakure law, shinobi under Chuunin were required to have _someone._ Adult or not, so many of them were young enough to worry about having them live on their own.

Kirigakure _custom_ dictated that she would be the one to have to care for them. The team supervisor took care of members that had no one else to turn to. It was tradition. It was established, and it would have been a social responsibility, even if she didn’t feel an immediate responsibility and desire to take them in and care for them until they were at least chuunin.

“You know if any two-team apartments are still open?”

“Yeah, I think I know a few.”


	8. Chapter 8

There hadn’t been a doubt in Ren’s mind that Suigetsu, Chojuro, and Haku would move with her if she asked.

As it turned out, she didn’t even have to ask. As soon as she said she was moving into an apartment with her gennin, they had started packing their things and debating who should room with whom. They were moved in by the time the Mizukage had returned from her diplomatic visit to Konoha.

Their meager belongings seemed even smaller in comparison to the apartment itself. They had all always packed light, and possessions didn’t last in the long run during the war. Four sleeping rooms, a common area with a small kitchen in it, and a bathroom, it was sizable in comparison to some of the apartments that Ren had seen in Konoha. They were efficiently built, as well. They were ultimately fairly square in design, and it meant that a number of them could be stacked together in complexes.

The kitchen and living space blended together. Plaster walls and wood-panel floors (probably imported under the new contracts with Konohagakure, given they weren’t worn down from the humidity yet and looked very new, just like the rest of the building) made it feel impersonal until the teams started putting photographs and personal affects around the walls and on shelves. There were the handful of photos of Ren and her team from the war, a much older photo from when Ren and Haku had met in Wave Country – a photo that had no indication she had ever worked or lived in Konoha. Nothing to indicate she had ever been anyone other than Akagi Ren.

The apartment had come with basic affects. Two futons per bedroom-space, a couch, and some appliances. Everything else was up to the eight of them to come up with. Chojuro sat down with a notebook and started listing a guessed price and balancing figures from their average income per week.

“What’s that?”

“Ah,” he flushed, “I always liked math in the Academy. Once the war started, we didn’t need it much, but I’ve been getting back to it since things calmed down. I figured I would come up with a budget plan for the next few weeks.”

“Have you ever considered fuuinjustu?” Ren sat across from him, leaning towards the wooden packing crate they were calling a coffee table. “Math is all over the place there.”

Chojuro glanced at Ren over his papers. “Not really. Not much of an artist or calligrapher, just like to do calculations.”

“Hm…” She glanced at his papers, checking the math and throwing some input in once in a while.

*

When she was pulled from active missions by Zabuza, she knew something was up. There would have to be a reason for it, otherwise she could take it up with the Mizukage and request being put back on the part-time roster.

“Your training is being upped.”

“Why?”

“You’ll see. Now, you like putting spin on your blade, right?”

She nodded. No use denying when she had three teammates who could rat her out of the lie. Suigetsu probably would do so gleefully, too, finding an excuse to join in on whatever hell Zabuza might wreak in retaliation.

Zabuza smirked. “Great. Catch.”

There was another sword coming at her. Equal in size to Shingi to Giri, meaning she would have to learn to balance each with a single hand.

“Shouldn’t I be switching sword types? These are a bit long for dual-wielding.”

“You’re going to figure out how to deal.”

That was… That was pretty par for the course when it came to training with Zabuza.

He didn’t give her much of a moment to process, though, because he was on her and suddenly she was trying to balance two swords that weren’t weighted well for a single-handed wield.

“Firm up your stance.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Ren dodged a blow, getting more of a feel for how two weapons affected her reaction time.

“You’ll figure it out.”

Or die trying went unsaid, but she could figure out as much from the nigh-on-gleeful look on Zabuza’s face when he scored a hit. And another. She was going to go back to their new apartment beaten and bloodied _and then she would have to face her teammates._ Suigetsu would never let her live it down.

Eventually, Ren shifted for the offensive. Swinging one sword low, she used the other to block his incoming attack. With practice, she might just be able to angle the block to nick the hand. Zabuza dodged the attack, but the smirk on his face meant she had done something right.

“Do that quicker next time, and maybe we’ll call it progress.”

“Motherfucker.”

*

Her days were supposed to be divided between training with Zabuza early, her work with her Genin in the mid to late mornings, and then she was to work with Hiroshi at least three times a week. The evenings she wasn’t, she was with her gennin running group exercises or working through strategic thought exercises.

To say it was quickly becoming grueling was an understatement, but it made her weekends feel all the more important. Nothing like wearing yourself out to make you want to go out with friends.

Hiroshi had been absorbed into their group early on, and Haruka became a reluctant tag-along the first time he had tried to retrieve Hiroshi for a research-related inquiry. Their group was expanding.

It wasn’t enough to stop some of the stares, though. That she had been a shinobi in another village made some of the chuunin and genin resent her or doubt her. Jonin would have enough experience and trust in her – there might be some tension but they would be able to work alongside her. There wasn’t much she could do, and they couldn’t doubt her loyalty vocally. She had enough connections to the Mizukage and her advisors that she was politically secure.

It was in the field she would have to worry.

Haruka rolled his eyes at one of the chunin women walking by, gesturing her over.

“If you’re going to work under me you might as well ask now so I don’t have to field the questions at work.”

She nodded at Ren, extending a hand. That much trust was at least a good sign. “Akane.”

“Ren.”

Things in Kirigakure were far more informal. In shinobi bars, that was even more true. Using a surname in a shinobi bar almost implied that you thought you were above the other person. Things like this were such a second-nature response at this point, though, that Ren wondered what it said about her that so much of Konoha had fled her veins. The village that raised her and she couldn’t be bothered to maintain the propriety and manners Yoshino had drilled into her.

“Do you miss Konoha?”

It was a double-edged sword of a question, but it was enough that she could carefully take an out if she wanted to.

“I miss some of the people there.” A true statement, if an incomplete one. Because, occasionally she missed the sun in the trees, or the calm. But then she ended up collapsed on the couch next to Suigetsu, the two of them caught in a fit of laughter over something dumb and immemorable, but that nonetheless meant something at the time. Or she ended up in front of the Shoji board with Ao, the two of them working out their personal problems without really thinking about it while they worked out the best strategy to win the game. Or her genin did something particularly brilliant and they were celebrating the accomplishment over some quick street food.

There were a lot of reasons to stay beyond the risk of war.

Akane blinked before asking her next question. “Which village is better?”

“Akane!” Haruka rolled his eyes. “What the hell?”

“It’s a fair question!”

“Kiri handles some stuff better. Konoha is peaceful, which is nice, but Kiri doesn’t weigh clans against civilians as much.”

Akane smirked. “A non-answer, and you still sing Kiri’s praises. I’ll take it.” Turning to Haruka. “I like her. I’m keeping her.”

Haruka glanced at Ren. “Be afraid. Be very afraid. She doesn’t know what ‘crossing the line’ even means.”

Ren smirked at Haruka. It wasn’t often she got to terrorize Hiroshi’s second-in-command – he had spent enough time around Hiroshi that he was nigh on unflappable. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”

Akane crowed with laughter, even as Haruka groaned into his drink.

*

Kakashi had never wanted a genin team, but once he had them he didn’t want to let them go. Apparently, though, the universe had been out to screw them, as it had been with every iteration of Team Seven throughout the history of Konoha. Even with Naruto’s cousin on the team in place of the Hokage’s apprentice, he could feel a distinct _lack_. The wit and laughter that had come out of Riko had been replaced by someone with some of Naruto’s energy but whom he didn’t _know_. He didn’t know how to joke with the former-Kusa shinobi that had been so deeply traumatized she had willingly up and left her old village for a new one with no guarantee it would be any better.

Even so, he would adjust. Life had always been out to sucker punch him and then throw a kunai into his kidney, just for good measure. Just when he got comfortable, usually, and just when his guard started to come down.

Shiranui was waiting on the edge of the training field, watching.

“Care to join?”

He shrugged. “I’ll watch a bit longer.”

By the time his team was ready for a break, not even Sasuke could be bothered to worry about Genma. An ally watching you train wasn’t something to be anxious and anal about – one of the many things Kakashi had worked to train _out_ of him during their trip.

“So. What did you learn?”

Genma laughed. “Not much. Though, if I ever get a genin team myself, I think I’ll go with your student’s approach to teaching. She seems a bit more inclined towards it.”

Kakashi straightened. “She has genin?”

Genma nodded. “And she focuses them on working together, among a lot of other things.

“You should be proud. You did good with her.”

That…

That took some of the sting out of losing her. Kakashi nodded at Shiranui. “Remind me to buy you dinner.”

“I’m spoken for, Hatake. You should have asked sooner!”

Kakashi wanted to smack the shit-eating grin off Genma’s face as any sympathy or positive feeling for the man Kakashi might have just had disappeared temporarily. He didn’t need to be reminded that his ~~best friend~~ rival was going out with Shiranui.


	9. Chapter 9

The training she was doing with Zabuza had raised questions, but she hadn’t thought too much about it. There was a reason for it, and eventually it would be clear. He wasn’t allowed to kill her (she had checked – maiming was allowed, but killing Mei had explicitly forbidden), and she had only benefited from his training in the past.

That being said, being taught to dual-wield didn’t make her brain jump straight to _Kiba_ but here she was, holding the infamous sword and glancing between it and Mei.

“You’re sure about this?”

“You’re a Kirigakure shinobi and you already work well with each of the other swordsman. You’ll make a devastating team, and you’ll do it without trying to kill each other.”

That was a pointed remark at Zabuza (given how he trained people), and even if Ren hadn’t guessed as much his affronted scoff would have told her anyway.

“You’ll be fine training on it, I’m sure. And Suigetsu can help you with the chakra manipulation and learning how to weave it into battle.

“Your genin are waiting for you, though, so I wouldn’t keep them still too long. They seem to have your penchant for trouble.”

Well. She couldn’t say they _didn’t_. But she didn’t have to like it being pointed out to her.

“Yes, Mizukage-sama.” Before taking off toward the training ground, she made sure to secure it to the harness on her back that Suigetsu had thrown at her this morning.

*

Being back to a nearly fulltime genin supervisor was nice because she got more time to really work with them and start feeling out their abilities. Which is why she was ready to jump them to chunin style training.

“You’re all antsy for the chunin exams, I know. We aren’t entering the next one – it’s three weeks away and I don’t think you’re geared to pass. There’s another one in about seven months, though, and that’s what our focus is going to be.

“I’m upping your training. You’re going to start running more C-Rank missions,” their mission record in village was starting to stack up, but it was mostly the repair work and rebuilding that required shinobi that could get in and out of more dangerous spots than civilians. Definitely more skill-focused than in Konoha, though there was still a teamwork focus, but it was out of necessity in part.

Kirigakure, according to Chojuro, didn’t give out the same types of genin-hazing D-ranks she had taken in Konoha. Her wartime missions were usually messenger runs or as an extra body on a team that needed either her healing ability or just a decent fighter – common for genin that left their teams or whose teams had split up for whatever reason. 

Instead, with the war over but so much needing to be done to repair and rebuild after, she got to watch and guide her gennin as they did either infrastructure projects or administrative projects. The administrative ones were the ones that took the hardest toll, and she tried to space them out and then find a way to reward her team for hard work after.

Coming to Kirigakure to find a missing relative was a crapshoot, and anyone in the Land of Water could tell you that but it wouldn’t change the desperation that drove mothers, fathers, sons, and daughters to come looking for someone that had disappeared during the war. The worst part was that some were refugees that had fled to other countries – most notably the Land of Fire – and were hard to track down. Some were dead, confirmed dead, but the family didn’t always take the news well.

It made their lives much harder when someone came from one of the border town families. They didn’t have formal shinobi training, but the closer they were to the edge of the collection of islands, the more likely they were to have a vicious streak a mile wide and the tenacity to train to something almost resembling shinobi ability.

A series of invasions in the early years of the Land of Water, some had told her. Ren figured it was just plain old paranoia.

_But it’s not paranoia if they’re actually out to get you. Then it’s just good sense._

Ages-old Kirigakure wisdom that usually came over alcohol and wrapped up in an insult.

Beyond that, though, the border-townspeople often reacted harshly to hearing someone was dead. They trained their children for _survival_. They clung to each other like teams in the village did.

Death was not noble in the border-towns. Or in the Land of Water, more generally, though the border-towns took it further than most. Only survival was allowed. If you died in battle who cared? The most honorable death out there was death in old age surrounded by loved ones, and if you asked Ren that, too, was good fucking sense.

She snapped out of her musings, stopped thinking about the people that came in and out of the village, and instead focused on her genin.

It was a rebuilding mission, but it was the last one they needed before taking their next C-Rank. Village policy mandated 12 D-Rank missions between each C-Rank, just to be sure of health and general well-being in case of injuries during the mission.

It was one of Mei’s reforms, and Suigetsu took great pleasure in guessing whether it was because of Ren’s track record of things going spectacularly wrong, and if so which mission specifically inspired it.

“Duck lower, Takeshi. Never assume you’re going to clear with a slight head nod, or have you never fought in the middle of a swamp?”

Takeshi laughed a bit, ducking lower. There was no reason to really remind him – if he clipped his head he learned his lesson – but she spent enough time with them to want to protect them.

Maybe Suigetsu was right – maybe she did have a bit of an attachment problem.

Sighing, she watched as Masuyo and Suzume caught the end of the beam that Takeshi was carrying. “You were about to let it drop off the building, idiot.”

“Suzume-“

“You don’t get to tell me not to call him an idiot, Senpai. You called Suigetsu-senpai an idiot _last night_ at dinner.”

Sometimes this whole living together with her team and her genin thing was a pain in the ass.

“Fine. But please try to limit it?” Ren threw a senbon to train Kimiko into awareness – her largest deficit in training, though she was getting better at noticing and dodging – as she turned back to Suzume. “Suigetsu fucked up _rice_. He deserved it. You’ve called Takeshi an idiot three times this mission alone.”

Suzume scowled. “But he almost dropped it off a building. What if it hit someone?”

Ren rolled her eyes. These four were going to kill her. Or drive her to murder – that was another very real possibility.

*

Suigetsu got a peek, once in a while, at the softer parts of his teammates.

Chojuro liked playing with the stray cats. He would tut at them and would occasionally care for them or get them to a vet if he thought they needed it. Their landlord hated it, but there was an unspoken leeway given to shinobi and their quirks in any Hidden Village.

Haku played music. He did it when he thought he was alone, and he hid his instrument of choice (a small flute) under the floorboards of their room.

Ren threw herself into people. She helped the neighbors, she gathered the civilian kids at the Academy into a cohesive unit when they gave their teacher trouble, and she worked with her genin. Those four got the most out of her in terms of a softer personality, he knew that much. She drove them harder and harder as time went, but she also fretted like his own mother once had over himself and Mangetsu.

It was nice to see. The war was starting to recede – whatever loyalists were left were learning to hide and to let things lie, and people were starting to go back to normal life. The next generation didn’t have to carry all the same burdens as theirs, and Mei was working to address social and military concerns.

Things were looking up, domestically speaking.

The paper in his pocket told him enough to know the international situation was not nearly so optimistic.

*

Zabuza glanced at Mei. “You’re sure about this?”

“We will have to keep them in-village until at least one of those genin gets a promotion, but the sooner we make them work together the better. Akane first, though. I want her being drilled in teamwork with various teams and formations. The others have worked together enough that they won’t have to worry as much, and in-village training will largely be to solidify roles and group fighting styles. Akane was a lone actor throughout most of the war. We need to make sure she will be up to this kind of long-term cooperative assignment.”

“And what about Ren’s work with Hiroshi?”

“Hiroshi submitted a preliminary report to me yesterday.” Mei sat behind her desk, taking the report out. “There have been some unexpected complications.”

“Such as?”

“This second chakra doesn’t work well with her primary chakra. According to his report, after use it bonds to it awkwardly, destabilizes it, and then clogs up her chakra system. She had a seizure yesterday from switching between the two too quickly. Each time it has triggered a reaction it was when she was switching back to her normal chakra, and he says if she isn’t careful, the clog in the chakra system sends her body into a sort of shock. Something about the sudden cut off to the circulation and the subsequent chakra buildup behind the block.”

Zabuza let out a low whistle. “You sure we should be putting her on this team if she can’t even control her own bloodline?”

Mei sighed, leaning back and spinning her chair slightly. “We need that kind of skill on the team.”

“We have other assassins and strategists.”

“We don’t have other Nara-trained strategists.”

“We can have her train someone.”

Mei sighed. “That would take too much time. Hiroshi is optimistic that he might find a solution – especially if we put him on the team. He can keep studying it, maybe even develop a medicine for her or a seal that will help moderate the bloodline while maintaining her control over her primary chakra.”

“So, we want to send a pretty good scientist, probably one of our best if he wasn’t such a fucking ditz, out with a potential time-bomb and two other Swordsmen?”

Mei sighed. “We don’t have many Jonin we can trust on this kind of mission. It’s across the entire damn world, hunting people we have no lawful right to hunt other than as ‘national security’, or in one case ‘reclamation of Village property’, and they have to do diplomatic work to ensure their own damn safety.

“I don’t have too many Jonin that have that diverse a skillset. Hell, we only have those kinds of skills in this team because they balance each other out and can communicate well enough to make sure that no one on the team does something stupid while also avoiding an issue of infighting.”

Zabuza rolled his eyes. “Why do you even bother asking me when you’ve already made up your mind?”

Mei smiled. “Because it bothers you. Besides, if you can convince me, then that means I was attacking the problem from too far down the river and needed the reality check.”

Zabuza grunted, clearly not pleased with his impromptu position as bodyguard-and-advisor, but willing to deal with it.


	10. Chapter 10

Morning coffee was a jonin-only routine, and the first time she tried it, Masuyo understood why. The stuff was nasty, even if Senpai added milk and cardamom to hers, or Haku-nii-san added sugar to it. It just didn’t taste good. Period. Full stop. And that they could drink it _and enjoy it_ suggested to Masuyo that the mandatory Jonin-promotion Torture and Interrogation Resistance training was truly something to be feared.

There was no rule against the genin having it, though, just a couple of very grumpy-in-the-morning jonin that drained the coffee before the genin could get any.

So when she was woken up at three in the morning by her senpai _who hadn’t had any coffee before they left_ she was reasonably concerned. They had an urgent C-Rank, which sounded like some kind of bullshit Suigetsu-nii-san would say. C-Ranks by definition weren’t really urgent – even delivering supplies to one of the outposts would be made a lower-end B-Rank mission if it was urgent.

“Believe me, I’m suspicious, too.”

Except her shoulders were relaxed, and there was a bright glint in her eye. She knew more than she was letting on.

“Senpai?”

“Just get ready, Masu. I’ll tell you more when we get out the door.”

*

With Kirigakure finally stabilized, it had been a need to assert her legitimacy that made Mei put her village’s name in the lot to host the Chuunin Exams. It was pure and unadulterated luck, and a statement to the faith other Kage were willing to place in her leadership, that the other villages agreed. Kirigakure had lasted hosted the exams twenty years ago, and there had been such a gross amount of violence that it went unsaid that Kiri was never to host again.

“Get Haruka, as well as Suigetsu and Akane. Tell each of them to pick a partner and to start designing tests for the Exams as soon as you can.”

The messenger bird was preening its feathers while Mei prepared her statement to the villages. She would have to put on a hell of a show with these exams.

“And you’re going to demand Akagi’s team into the Exams, as well as Kuromatsu’s team. Any other genin squads are going to be permitted choice, but they were close enough to chuunin before to give a solid show of strength.”

“How will we handle accommodations?” Ao glanced through the missive that Mei had lightly tossed to him. “We will have quite a few foreign shinobi around – we don’t have much in the way of hotels in the village. Didn’t before, and definitely don’t now.”

“We have some spaces. Enough shinobi are stationed at outposts that we have empty apartments We can put as many as possible into the open ones, and then we can ask our other shinobi to room with contingents from other villages.”

“You don’t think that will end badly?”

“We will have to pick the ones that can pretend to be diplomatic long enough not to kill some genin.”

Ao groaned. “This was a horrible idea. It’s a clusterfuck. A clusterfuck of massive proportions. A clusterfuck waiting to happen.”

“We need to assert power somehow.”

It was only his eternal dedication to being respectful that kept him from delivering a particularly biting comment in response, and Mei had to laugh at that.

Ever the gentleman, even if it pissed him off.

*

It was a weird escort mission, but the ‘urgent’ part of it came from the fact that the man, the shinobi they were all pretending was a civilian, was in some kind of classified danger. As such, Senpai was walking with them while the man stayed in front of her. She refused to say his name, but there was a clear mix of emotions on their Senpai’s face.

“He’s got some dirt on some people we hate, so don’t ask any questions and just get the mission done.”

Those had been her exact words. And she had refused to answer any questions. She was tense and she was keeping a close, distrustful eye on the man they were escorting.

Suzume and Kimiko were tired, barely awake, meanwhile Takeshi was up and moving with ease. He was going to be a medic, she mused, it made sense he was used to waking up early.

Suzume and Kimiku were tired, barely awake, but still aware. And Masuyo could see why – you didn’t necessarily need to be thinking too deeply if you were in the field as kunai fodder. Now that they were valued, they didn’t suddenly lose that mentality that they were just needed to take down as many people as they could in the war.

Masuyo sighed.

“You okay?”

Senpai had always been kind. They had been a team for almost six months, and between the myriad of missions and training they were doing she found ways to get each of them to talk to her and to discuss things. They were close.

“Yeah.” Senpai knew that she was lying. But Masuyo was sure the only reason she was let be was the foreign man in front of them. The man whose accent was that of a mainlander from deep inland. A man that didn’t interact with traders or the layman often, because his cadence was even and calm, almost monotone, and his accent was lofty, high-class. Her mother had told her, when she was still alive, before the war, that the prettier their voice and accent the more dangerous they were for business.

It was hard to become upper-class in Kirigakure, because life there was hard. But people were bonded together. They were tight-knit. It was what the people who remembered Kiri’s past talked about. Yes, there had been a brutal graduation exam (replaced now with something that kept you alive but still required proving yourself in combat), but once you were with a genin team, chances were you found your family within the shinobi world.

_“We weren’t always what we are now. When we first started families kicked you out. You needed someone, so the Shodai kept teams together and had them rise through ranks together.”_

History told late in the evenings by older jonin and chuunin warmed up a bit by alcohol tended to be her favorite kind. Books were cold and separated, and when they were sober they were harsher. The alcohol and a calm night, though, put many of them in a good mood. A good enough mood to share.

_“Shinobi history here is a pretty new thing. Kunoichi history – that’s the one that we gotta remember.”_

Mei had told her that. That kunoichi had built Kirigakure and then someone had tried to shove it into the mold of Konohagakure – a mold that didn’t work well, but that the Shodai, a great man to some and a curse to the legacy of the village to others, had worked so hard for.

And then things had changed under the Nidaime. Things went downhill with the Sandaime, and they burned under Yagura.

“Masuyo, focus.”

“Yes, Senpai.”

It went without saying that with a kunoichi at the helm again, things would be changing.

*

She was going to have some serious questions about what Mei was thinking. They just finished a war, and she was pulling some bullshit that could start another one. Sure, he was selling information for safety and it wasn’t unheard of. Konoha had taken in Kiri traitors in the past. That didn’t mean she had to like it.

As it was, he was staying at a much closer, busier outpost than she would like. Even with a full ANBU guard, she was skeptical that would be enough to hold him back. Add that to some of his conditions, and Ren was incredibly skeptical of why he would sell himself out so easily (selling out his comrades… after the stuff he had done she wasn’t really surprised).

They dropped him off, she took the information he was willing to give at that moment, and they left. The less time her genin spent near him the better. She made her genin run as fast as they possibly could to the village, too, to put distance between them.

That he was in her country was going to bother her endlessly. That he would only speak to “the Bloody Flower”, as he had even fucking _phrased it_ when he talked to Mei rankled her even further.

As soon as their debrief was over, she dismissed her genin.

“Senpai? What’s-“

“Just go home, guys.”

They bowed to Mei before leaving, tossing her puzzled looks as they passed.

“Ren.”

“Mei, I have and would lay my life down for this village. For this country. But I can’t do so unquestioningly, and this latest mission – are you absolutely sure this was a good idea?”

Mei nodded, sighing as she placed her hands on the desk. “Ren, do you think I would willingly endanger my people or my soldiers?”

“No.”

“Do you think I make many rash decisions?”

Ren raised an eyebrow. “Other than throwing a coup?”

Mei’s face hardened. “I’m being serious, Akagi.”

“Of course, Mizukage-sama.” Ren bowed. “I apologize. I do not believe you are prone to rash decision making.”

“Then what are you really asking when you question my judgement in this matter?”

Ren straightened up. “He killed over two-hundred people, Mizukage-sama. He did it without even blinking – he did it and left almost no survivors.”

“Your numbers at Sapphire Lake may not be nearly as impressive, but I doubt I need to remind you that cumulatively, your recorded kills and his amount to about the same.”

Ren knew. Kami, she knew. “Mizukage-sama, he was a traitor.”

“He’s an asylum-seeker now, and he is giving us valuable information. Information that could save the lives of some of _your_ fellow shinobi one day. Whatever he’s done in the past, as despicable as it is, can’t outweigh just how vital this is to our intelligence network.

“You are a good solider, Akagi-san. You have been loyal beyond what was required and you have remained loyal after what would send many shinobi running. You have placed an incredible amount of trust in me as your leader, and I ask you to remember that trust and to allow this to happen.

“Why do you think I agreed to his conditions?”

“To have me be his contact?”

Mei nodded. “Why would I let you two come in contact?”

Ren thought it over. They had sealed his chakra, they had taken his weapons, all for his safety as well as those around him – but that didn’t mean anything. Someone with his skill could turn anything into a lethal weapon. “Because I would put him down if I thought it was necessary.”

“And because you, with a much better understanding of the scope and nature of his crimes as well as his person might be able to see it quicker and save our shinobi a very bloody fight.”

Ren inhaled, taking a moment to consider the Mizukage’s words. “I’m not going to like it.”

“But you’re going to do your job, and you’ve done plenty of jobs you didn’t like before.”

Ren nodded, bowing. “I apologize for any indecency, Mizukage-sama.”

It was Mei’s turn to laugh, a much lighter look crossing her face. “That’s the most polite you’ve been in years. Scram – it’s not a good look for you. And tell Hiroshi that I expect his report on the feasibility of an Academy Fuuinjutsu curriculum by tomorrow!”

“What-?”

“I’m your Kage. It’s my job to know – and besides, the two of you are around one another enough, it’s a lucky guess to assume you would be going to talk to him. This conversation is a need-to-know, one, though, so I better not hear much about it from my other jonin.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*

The flat expression, the half-hearted fall to the seat beside him told him it was one person, and one person only. She had probably looked for him in the R and D office but didn’t find him. The library was a good second guess.

“I take it your early morning mission didn’t go well?”

She passed him a cup – hot coffee and from the sweet taste she put in a perfect amount of sugar. “Thank you, by the way.”

She fell back a bit. “It went _fine._ ”

“Run for the hills everyone! Nothing went wrong!”

She smirked and threw a senbon to land by his arm, while they both pretended he didn’t flinch a bit. “Screw off.”

He laughed again. “In all seriousness, if you want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“I can’t, but I appreciate it.”

He passed her a book out of his bag. “You asked about how to combine and alter matrices. This book explains it well.”

She nodded, leaning back on the arm of her chair, letting her legs drop over the arm so she was fully facing him. “How do we reconcile ourselves with what we do, when we condemn others for doing the same thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“We all kill, and so many. How do we justify it?”

“What happened on your mission?”

She shook her head.

Hiroshi considered the question. He couldn’t give her any special answer without context, but he would be lying if he said it didn’t keep him up at night that he had taken as many lives as he had tried to save with some of his research.

“Shinobi in general?”

Ren shrugged. “Kiri. How do we, in Kiri, justify that we killed our own during a war?”

“Because they weren’t our own. Because we were loyal to each other, and to the idea of a better future. They were as loyal to Yagura and a bloody legacy…”

Ren shook her head. “Loyalty? That’s all we have?”

Hiroshi leaned forward in his chair, moving to look at her more directly. “Well, missing-nin don’t have people to trust, do they?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me - I forgot this was on my computer for months while I was on a Very Long Hiatus. But hey, mental health is tanking and I'm coping by writing so let's just pretend everything is fine and dandy.


	11. Chapter 11

The next few weeks, Hiroshi saw very little of Ren. They didn’t see each other every day to begin with, but it seemed like between their new informant and her team and the updated training she had put them under with the Chuunin Exams happening in three more months. It meant his research was suffering – and likely would continue to do so until things died down a little – but it was for a very good reason.

So seeing her walking down the street, he veered off towards the nearest street vendor and bought her a coffee. Where he liked only a bit of milk and sugar, though, she typically put in milk and spices – a decidedly Kiri tradition she had swam straight into. He was quick about it, making sure to snap the cardamom pod with his teeth so it could soak in the coffee a bit before he caught up to her.

It was right to get her coffee. She looked so tired in front of him, and the second she smelled it, she took a long drink and then put an arm around Hiroshi. “Thank you. I needed that.”

“You still have half of it left.”

“That’s what’ll keep me going, the first half was to keep me upright.”

“You sure you don’t need to go home? Take a day?”

“When has taking a day ever been an option?” She laughed, “You and I serve the same Kirigakure, right?”

Hiroshi fell into step beside her as she walked toward the Mizukage’s office.

“You have a meeting with Mei?”

“Our visitor had some new information to divulge. I have to pass it up and write some of it up.” She groaned. “I don’t want to deal with this shit.”

“I take it you don’t want to run a spy network, then?” Hiroshi smiled a bit at her ire for the newest addition to her pile of ongoing assignments.

“ _Never._ I’m a happy little assassin.” She scowled. “And of any of them, Takeshi is the only one I could see enjoying a spy network, anyway. Kid likes talking to people and running circles around them. Fighting and battle strategy, not so much.”

Hiroshi laughed at that. There was something so dichotomous about the terms ‘happy’ and ‘assassin’, and he knew that Ren would never use that phrasing if she really was more awake.

“You think your kids will be ready by the time the Exams start?”

“They were ready weeks ago. I’m making sure they make an impression, though, so I need to make sure they’re fucking _impressive_.”

They already were, but telling that to Ren was likely to result in a glare and an explanation of just how much more impressive they could be if they kept working. She was not only fiercely demanding of them, nor was she just fiercely protective of them. She was also so fiery and parental toward them that they were quick to gain her compliment and just as quick to earn her ire if she knew they weren’t performing to muster. Her standards were high, and they all seemed to thrive with the expectation that they were capable of more than they were achieving.

She would be a terrifying parent – a taskmaster who created tiny monsters, something valued in mothers in Kirigakure  – if a woman was an accomplished shinobi, it was expected her children would rise to meet that same standard. And damn if she wasn’t demonstrating that with her genin team (widely considered to be a test run for Kiri shinobi for what they would be able to push their own children toward accomplishing).

Hiroshi hummed as she walked towards the training ground. Sometimes he wondered how things would be different if his family had made it to Konoha.

*

“He told me that when he left there were no plans to go after the Exams, mostly because they want to get all the others before they go after Konoha.

“Other than that, he seems to think there is a reasonable chance that they will avoid Kirigakure for now. We have nothing they want. He did stress, however, that there was always a chance plans had changed in the last few weeks, what with Konoha officially sending theirs into the Exams.”

Mei nodded. “That sounds about right based on our preexisting intel.”

“What are you planning, Mei?” Ren leaned forward. “You have more information than the other Hidden Villages, and you have a practically untapped well of intel who is completely reliant on you – a blind man with that big a target on his back can’t take care of himself on the run. If I learned anything about you during the war, it’s that you’re making plans months in advance.”

And this was why her Jonin Commander and Strategic Advisor were separate people. Even if Ren wasn’t officially listed because of her positions not only within the village as a Genin supervisor and the contact for a human intelligence asset, but also in longer-term tactical plans for the village, she was still the one that Mei called for advice when it came to more intricate strategies. Some of the potential political messes were easy to plan for – she didn’t always need to call Ren in. But once in a while it was worth it to forego her Jonin Commander and bring in one of her sharpest strategic minds.

Human strategy, especially, was not Kiri’s strong suit. Feelings tended to be beaten down, people tended to be blunt, and coordinating around the mainlanders was a difficult task. At least Ren had the experience to guess at the rules of decorum that were expected.

That didn’t mean it was any less a pain in the ass to deal with someone who saw through her like she had shouted her intentions.

“We need to ensure he’s guarded. And we need to worry about our asset’s safety. There’s no reason to expect they would cross paths – we can keep the potential problems hidden behind closed doors, but we don’t need to aggravate the closest thing we have to an ally.

“I want you on the protection detail for the Konoha boy, and I want you to pick a few people to guard the other man. The first test, you’ll be off detail because of your role, but on all the others, you are to guard him and his team. Your own team, I am sure, you can trust with Haku or Chojuro.”

Ren nodded. “In terms of my guard team, how involved will we be? They have to have autonomy to complete their Exam tasks.”

“You will have three other ANBU-level shinobi with you, preferably from the Assassination Division. Follow, but do not be seen or sensed, and make sure that you step in if anything out of the bounds of the Exams happens. This includes foreign shinobi that are not participants attacking, but most of your focus will be on preventing enemy success in the event of an Akatsuki attack. Am I understood?”

“Perfectly, Mizukage-sama.”

*

Ren sat her genin down in a circle in the training field. She had been drilling them into the ground for the Chuunin Exams, and while she liked to think she had been making time for their mental health she couldn’t deny she had been somewhat neglectful the last two weeks in particular as she was spreading herself thinner and thinner being picked up to help set up for the Exams. But, more importantly, she had not made them reflect on what their weaknesses were lately. That had to change before the exams. If they were aware, they would compensate for it and wouldn’t get bitten in the ass by a weakness they were unaware of. x

“What do you each have to say?”

Takeshi started. “My strengths are close quarter combat.” An understatement, really. Akane had shown him how to use a shortsword and a naginata and he had taken to it like vines to trees. “My weaknesses are longer ranged combat and genjutsu, generally. More specifically, my stamina doesn’t work well for the longer range, and my chakra reserves are smaller than average, meaning I can’t compensate with anything flashy to get in close. As for genjutsu, I need to pay closer attention to my surroundings if I have any hope of developing a sense for when I’ve been put under a genjutsu.”

Ren nodded. “You are also getting stronger in strategy, but you still have an issue with rushing in without having more than a vague idea of what you’re doing. If you have the opportunity to, you should always make at least two plans.”

The four of them groaned and recited the mantra she had been drilling into them. “One for if things go perfectly, one for when things get fucked.”

“Language.”

“That’s word for word how you say it,” Suzume said, scoffing. “And, yeah, I know. One of my weaknesses is I mouth off to authority. It will likely have an effect on the decision on whether or not to promote me, but I would like to think I’ve gotten better. Other than that, there is the fact I can’t aim a kunai for shit, but ninja wire lets me at least set up some decent traps so it looks intentional. My strengths are my natural leadership skills,” Ren would call it more of domineering the situation and refusing to back down until reality _bent at the fucking knee_ , but that was beside the point, “and tenacity. And ninjutsu.”

“You also have good chakra control. If, by some ridiculous happenstance, you don’t make chuunin we are getting you put into a medical apprenticeship. If you do make it, I would recommend you fill out specialty forms.”

“Takeshi is the medic, though.”

“You can have more than one medic per team – in fact, I would recommend it.”

Suzume nodded. Ren had learned that dealing with her was largely based in answering questions she refused to ask. Read the situation right, though, and her questions were obvious, especially when she was in a particularly verbal mood. In battle, it ended up working to their advantage – her teammates had begun to clue in to how she communicated and they manipulated it for strategy planning using a similar communication style – refusing to say explicitly what they were going to do next.

Kimiko took the slight lull as the prompting for her to start. “Under you and Haku-senpai my swordsmanship has definitely improved.  The water jutsu you taught me – the spit one?”

Ren nodded, not bothering to recite the name. Kimiko had a tendency to not shout her techniques at the top of her lungs. She would do well in the Assassination Corps of ANBU or even as a Hunter Nin. Personally, having done both, Ren would rather see her in Assassination Corps, if only because the missions tended to be less dangerous and it meant less chance of seeing one of her own come back bloody and busted up because a missing-nin nearly killed them.

Kimiko continued. “It’s a useful distraction. As for more specific strengths, I am inclined to list ninjutsu and genjutsu, but if I am not mistaken I would say I am fairly rounded.”

Ren nodded. “You are, which means you don’t have obvious strengths and weaknesses, but they are there. Your forms are still a little rigid, and that won’t help you in a fight at all. You also tend to freeze up right before throwing an attack, and that can get you killed in the field, as I’m sure you know.”

Kimiko nodded.

“Masuyo?”

The girl in question looked up, her head tilted to the side. “I don’t pay attention to my surroundings and I have trouble with teamwork. But Kimiko is helpful with paying attention and Suzume and Takeshi won’t let me get away without teamwork. Neither will you, for that matter, Senpai.”

“Teamwork keeps you alive.”

Masuyo nodded.

“Now what are your strengths?”

That was the struggle with Masuyo. The others got a feel for talking about their strengths and weaknesses and what that would entail pretty quickly, but Masuyo seemed only to grasp talking about her weaknesses. It took prompting, and on bad days coaxing, to get her to talk about her strengths.

“I can think of things.”

Suzume rolled her eyes. “You’re a good field strategist, ‘Suyo.”

Masuyo seemed uncomfortable with the blunt praise.

Takeshi leaned forward to whisper at her like he was sharing some great secret. “And you’re way nicer than Suzume – definitely an asset when we need to talk to civilians.”

Suzume scowled and shoved him, but she didn’t argue the point.

Her team was doing well, and they were getting closer each day. She worried they wouldn’t pass – but maybe they would do fine. Maybe that worry was for nothing.

(If something didn’t go wrong, though, she was pretty sure that would be miracle enough.)

*

Kakashi stood behind his three genin, looking at Anko’s team and having some idea of what was coming. The only real question was why Genma was in the room.

“Your teams are the most viable genin we have for promotion. Mitarashi, your team has been active just over a year and have handled each mission with a surprising amount of camaraderie and efficiency for genin, especially in their first year as a team. They will represent Konoha well, and you should be proud.” Anko was hiding it well, but Kakashi caught the bright look in Anko’s eyes at the praise.

Tsunade turned toward his team. “Even with having been disbanded and regrouped with slightly altered membership, Team 7 has maintained an adequate mission record and training regimen to qualify, and beyond that the three of you demonstrate enough specialization it would be a waste not to send you to the Chuunin Exams in Kiri. It will certainly make a statement.”

Kakashi bowed. “Thank you, Hokage-sama.”

Genma leaned forward. “And I’m here because…”

“You, apparently, already have some acquaintance with Kirigakure shinobi, as well as with the village itself. You will be going as somewhat of a guide, but also to be installed as a diplomat.”

Genma blinked. “Diplomacy doesn’t tend to be what I’m good at. Kind of the opposite, actually.”

Well, that was one way to describe assassination. ‘Opposite of diplomacy’. Though Kakashi would argue of all the ways to do it, assassination could be pretty diplomatic. The person being assassinated at least got to die without the fear of _knowing_ they were about to die.

“I hear that’s what works best in Kirigakure.” Tsunade smiled. “They may be trying to get away from the Bloody Mist reputation, but there’s definitely an edge there.”

Well, this would be interesting.


End file.
